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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 8 months

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Lost in a Cornfield..?

Scarecrow!Phillip Graves x Lost!Reader

Summary: You're lost in a cornfield.. and is that a talking scarecrow here to help??

warnings: brief animal death..

word count: 1826

Part 2, Part 3

Author's note: UHM SO THIS WAS INSPIRED BY THIS C.AI CHAT I HAD... (creds to maskedmenenthusiast on c.ai for the actual like idea, it was their bot I just got absorbed in the bot!!) uhm so if this is shitty pls lemme know, its just a fun au so he's likely ooc. I have more written I just have to comb through and edit, so if ifs wanna read more pls lmk and I'll post them!!

The crackling noises of the corn is all that’s heard as you walk through this seemingly endless cornfield. It’s hard to even remember how or when you got lost here. The stalks loom above your head. Corn husks dance slightly in the breeze and they bounce as you walk and make a path through them.

It’s not a question but a statement when you say it; I’m lost in a fucking cornfield with no exit insight.

This entire stupid situation, I can’t even remember how I even got here in the first place.. As you try and recall, you get distracted with the corn. Staring at it you get a good look at it instead of just the glance and not thought you had previously given it. The corn looks different.

It looks almost like its.. alive.

And the more you look, the more you realize the corn is abnormally tall..

How didn’t I notice that.. You think to yourself.

But before you can dwell too much on it you are taken aback by the sound of something. Something suddenly rustling through the cornfield headed in your direction.

The sound starts to get closer and closer, you don’t know from which exact direction it is coming from.

Then you see what is making the noise.

Between the crops you start to make out colors and soon a figure, then a voice makes you feel a slight relief. You aren’t alone here, it must be the farmer! Right?

“A pest in the crops?” asks a man in a Southern accent, it’s not exactly a prominent one that obscures his words but it’s definitely a Southern accent. “Now, how’d such a thing as yourself make it in here anyway?” He asks closing slightly in so that there are no parts of the field obscuring either of you.

And as he does, it seems as if the previous crops that were in the way moved. Both of you stood in a small patch of open space in between this cornfield.

The crops seem to move almost at his will.. No that's not possible. You brush it off and come out from your thoughts.

“Sorry, I sort of got lost..” you admit to the man.

“That so?” he asks with a grin. It's slightly lopsided but charming, he has somewhat sharp canine teeth that make his grin more boyish. “Well come on now, follow me, little lost wanderer.” He starts to make his way into the cornfield.

Occasionally he would glance behind himself to make sure you were following. He’d wave with his hand or snap his fingers to keep your attention on him.

"Y'see, these cornfields ain't what they look like. Ya might be lost now, but if you ain't careful, they'll swallow ya whole." He explains, and almost perfectly timed his attention is snapping at something nearby.

You see something unnatural move in the corn. You nervously inch closer to the man.

“What was that?” You ask worriedly, this sinking feeling fills the pit of your stomach as the voice in the back of your head screams about how there is something incredibly wrong here. But you brush it off, again, to just being nervous.

He stares into the corn with a hard look on his features. "C'mon, we needa get outta here." The man replies, leading you deeper into the corn.

The unnatural movements in the corn made you nervous.

What was that thing?

As he leads you away from near whatever that was, you end up at a wide patch where the corn parts.

How odd that it isn’t until he showed up that these patches in the field started to show up.. He likely knows this field. You brush off your thoughts and try to think logically, again.

Stopping at the patch, he started to speak. “Listen, I can’t really explain it or tell ya much ‘bout what happens ‘round here in these fields, but what I can tell ya is it ain’t pretty.” he sounded serious but not in a grave tone. More so like he was just breaking it to you the reality of field life and work.

Your mind wanted to think logically, it reasoned that he was simply warning of the dangers in farm life, of wild animals in fields. But your intuition was screaming at you since you got lost in this cornfield. It's been this feeling telling you that this cornfield wasn’t normal. There was something deeply wrong with it and it was likely far from any logical understanding. But you silenced that part of your mind, there wasn’t any evidence, just a feeling.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and come back, looking at him you started to ask him questions as you both stood in this patch between the corn. “So who are you? To be honest, when I first saw you coming toward me I mistook you for a scarecrow!”

He scoffed amused. “That so? I don’t like to share my name with strangers, so you can just call me Scarecrow.” His tone is displaying obvious amusement. “Just so ya know, that is what I am. But, I ain’t just any ol’ scarecrow.” The man explains.

His words pique your interest and you start to get a better look at him.

His clothing is torn and tattered, and he adorns an old straw-ish hat that is worn and filled with holes. It covered his face so that the upper half of his face is obscured. His clothes are just a little too thin for someone to reasonably wear in the current weather, but he doesn’t seem to even be affected by it much.

Something about him starts to seem.. Inhuman.

That would start to resonate with him saying he was a scarecrow. However, you start to think this man was just teasing you since you had confessed that you had thought he had looked like one when you first saw him coming up through the corn.

But he spoke again, “Y’see, ‘round these parts, I’m more than just an inanimate object. I’m a guardian of these fields.”

You gave him a look, questioning. Was he actually serious about being a.. scarecrow??

You decide to risk and ask. “You.. aren’t human, are you?”

You finally give into the suspicion. Part of you hoped that you were wrong and this was just a normal situation, he’d be a normal person, and that he’d tease you about actually believing he was a scarecrow.

But you were trying to convince yourself of something that was simply not true.

He gives you a grin, one that makes you feel like he’s about to tease, but his tone and demeanor gave the energy that it was anything but teasing. “Not in the slightest.”

He shrugged as if it was nothing. “Now are you just going to stand there and gawp at me, or do you want my help?” He asked as he moved to start walking back into the field.

Quickly, you moved to follow him. He spares you no time to even think or process that he is indeed a living fucking scarecrow. As you start to walk, you turn your head behind to glance at the patch both of you had previously just stood in.

It was gone. As if it was never there, the crops stood there.

They couldn’t have grown that quickly.. Right?

It wasn’t too long after both of you started to walk that there was a loud rustling in the distance. It makes both of you stop in your tracks.

Your eyes narrow at the sound.

What was that?

You squint into the distance and notice two red eyes glowing through the stalks of corn.

The rustling drew closer, and the eyes became clearer.

Freaked out, you jumped closer to the Scarecrow clinging onto his clothing and his body.

“What the fuck is that…” you ask worriedly with a tinge, well more than a tinge, of fear is lanced into my words.

“Keep it down!” The Scarecrow whispers quickly. He gestures his finger to his mouth for you to be quiet.

You can’t help but take note of part of his hands and arms that are slightly exposed at a closer distance. They look strong, lean, and muscular with a few scars along with veins.

Broken from your thoughts, you hear a large snapping noise, and then suddenly, something jumps out from the cornfield toward the two of you.

You don’t get an immediate first look at it. It happened so fast. But you know damn well it was an animal

In the split second that the thing jumped out right toward the two of you, the scarecrow grabbed the animal by its neck.

Finally, you managed to get a closer look as the Scarecrow had the thing by its neck in his hands.

It looked like an opossum but bigger and more like a weird dog. Its fur was slightly matted and full of dirt. The eyes glowed at the right shine of the light. It bared sharp teeth in multiple rows. Its ears were large and pointy. It made a loud screech as it was caught in the Scarecrows hands.

You had never seen anything like it before.

“I’m not having any of your pest nonsense!” he exclaimed and without hesitation or much effort he snapped its neck.

It went limp and the crying stopped.

You stare wide eyed.

You just saw him kill an unknown creature with his bare hands. He did it with such ease too. Part of you was disturbed and the other was relieved because that thing was technically trying to jump at the two of you!

You just stare not knowing exactly what to say after witnessing that.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? If you're worried that I just murdered a poor, defenseless animal, you can rest your little heart.” he chuckled at your reaction, likely because he does this sort of thing on a regular basis, he’s used to doing such things; taking care of the field and all.

"I ain't seen the likes of this thing before, but it sure ain't what it seems." The scarecrow shrugs again. "Looks like a hybrid. But a pest is a pest, I'm just doing my job," he adds, turning and heading further into the cornfield again.

You rush to follow after him and reach out to lightly grasp his tattered clothing to keep him close. After seeing whatever that animal was, you don’t want to risk straying far from him.

“Uhm, so you just like to protect these..cornfields from ‘pests’?” you ask him warily. “This isn’t a normal crop field, is it..” I say, it's less of a question and more of a realization for you.

Your mind fogs again. Much like it has been doing since you got lost here. It's hard to even think, you feel almost suffocated.

What the hell is this place...

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kshithijiyer · 1 year

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A stroll through corporate minefield

As the world moves towards an uncertain path where most don't know where it'll end up. I found myself in the middle of an interesting situation where things were working out for me. All of a sudden we see that top tier companies except a few where mass layoffs are happening and all these high risk high payment jobs feel like landmines and ticking time bombs.

So like most people I also aspired to be apart of these MANG companies and was lucky enough to have interviewed at Microsoft(I know this is not the M here :P), Google and Amazon(aws){yes these are the G and A} but never got through the interview process. Okay this is not just about MANG, there were quite a few dozen companies where I lost. And like everyone even I used to feel that I was not good enough but what I always forget is sometimes it's not you it could be the other guy sitting across the table. Even after interviewing around hundreds of candidates in my career so far and giving a whole bunch of interviews it always felt like each interview is something which can go either ways either you hire the best fit or end up hiring the worst of the lot. And this is what most employees and candidates feel and this is something which is natural.

A different perspective on this is something which I saw at my company which is a small startup where I started to figuring out what happens behind the scenes "The why?" of hiring, which is most of the times unknown. Now like all processes hiring is also a process which is driven by the leadership of a company. If your leaders are stupid your people strategy is also stupid. What happens at small startups like us was that either the leadership decides to carefully hire like us or go on a hiring spree where they try to hire everyone who they find smart. Now both these approaches have their own risks and benefits. Now the second one is what is seen in most startups, pretend startups and sometimes even some hyper scalers where they go and hire everyone they want thereby having enough resources to run any project they find valuable enough. But now the risk of this is you end up becoming a person who has just stepped on a landmine where you don't know if you would be needed in the company tomorrow or not. The reason why this becomes a landmine is because you, me, the company and the leadership can never predict if these projects can be funded for the longterm. And when you see disruption in the markets around the globe it blasts, and you end up seeing huge number of companies laying off people because they can't sustain these business. Now the first case where the leadership decides to cautiously hire, the teams are quite small and sometimes even understaff to do what they are asked to but even in disrupting markets such companies survive without even a speed bump in their growth. And such companies tend to do well in any situation and layoffs is next to null or minimal in such cases.

The problem here was people that even included me always get carried away by high paying salaries and growth driven mindset and tend to overlook the risks and we see the ifs of what if you would be able to achieve the high growth you expected. This is the sad but true reality of career progressions. So what do we conclude to? It's difficult to find a job which can keep you engaged and motived but it's even more difficult to hold on to it in difficult times. While planning your or even my next career progression we would want to see if how the company makes money? and if you want to take the landmine or stroll around the mine fields. The idea is not to say that some companies are good and some are shitty it's just a way to figure out where we would want to invest our time energy and some part of our short but packed life.

#work #tech layoffs #2022 layoffs #leadership

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bluegarners · 3 years

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hiya @viceturtle! I finally got it done! Here is your Bad Things Happen Bingo request with Dick and Jason; you can also read it on ao3

What Have I Done?

It’s a lot. He’s not going to lie.

Dick was dead for eight months. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was a fact that they were all forced to deal with, all forced to live with. Dick was dead and there was nothing any of them could do about it. And for a time, Jason had held onto the small belief, he’s not going to call it hope, that Dick had somehow managed to pull through. That even despite the beatings, the torture, everything before and after it, Dick had managed to pull through and come out of it all alive.

But he hadn’t. That was the thing, at its core. Dick died.

Jason knows what it is to be dead. To be beaten and left to die. To struggle and still search for a way out of the shit hole you’re suddenly in and cling to that light, that stupid, stupid promise in the back of your head that screams, Help is coming, just hold on a little longer, that forces you to keep struggling, keep surviving, keep hoping for a way out despite the circumstances. Jason knows and it absolutely sucked.

He died and then clawed his way out of his own coffin. One of his fingers is permanently misshapen, wood chips and metal piercing through his stiff and cold skin. He’s got scars all over his body to prove that he died, to prove that he was beaten with a crowbar, messed around with like he was just some dummy, some thing that could take a beating and then some. Up and down and across and lined; the scars are all over him and he died.

And Dick died too.

In those eight months, Jason felt more connected to his deceased older brother than he ever had before. A deep and twisted connection over a shared death, a similar fate so convoluted it makes Jason sick to think about sometimes. His murderer is still out there. Jason has to live with that fact and even though it’s not fine and things would be so much easier without that psychopath, Jason gets it. Sometimes. Gets the moral code, the compass, that shrouds Batman and his little followers.

And he’s trying. He is. He made an effort to try and do the right thing when Dick died because suddenly, the role of older brother had fallen onto him and even though he doesn’t have a good relationship with Tim or the recently resurrected Damian, or anyone for that matter, there was still that recognition that it was all on him now. He was the eldest. He was the one to look towards. Not look up to, no, he will never claim the title of a role model, but now he’s the oldest, the most experienced, the next in line when one just can’t go to Bruce about shit going on.

The point being is that he did try, put in more effort than he probably should have, to stepping up to the plate and taking a swing at being better. At being the eldest of the entire brood and not fucking it up horribly. He switches to rubber bullets and smoke pellets. He keeps his excessive violence reserved for only the worst scum and even then still attempts to steer clear from Batman’s territories. He takes care of the Narrows, rekindles a sort of friendship with Tim, doesn’t fight the literal child that lurks in the Cave, and avoids confrontations with Bruce altogether.

It works and it’s good. He steps up, frankly owns being the eldest, and he’s fine. He’s fine with it. He’s still got his reputation intact, Red Robin isn’t terrified of his presence any longer, and Robin doesn’t pull a sword every time they spot one another. So what if he slips up occasionally and gets carried away? They’re just rubber bullets, weapons all the same, and they’re no different from getting hit with Batman’s fist (which Jason knows, from experience, hurts like hell) or getting swung at with a large knife.

He had a thing going on, is what Jason’s trying to get at, and then Dick showed up.

Dick. Richard Grayson. Who died eight months ago after he was tortured by the Syndicate and had his heart stopped by Lex Luthor. Who they had a funeral for. Who they mourned for. Who Jason had attempted to fill the gaping hole he had left behind.

Who Jason thought had died.

Betrayal is a word Jason feels like he could apply to a majority of his life. Betrayal from his parents, his poor, poor mother who just couldn’t muster up enough fucks. Bruce, Batman, for getting him into the vigilante life, for letting him wear that damn costume and get himself blown up for all his efforts. Talia, for restoring his mind after he was supposed to be dead. Bruce, Batman, again, for letting his murderer walk around like it was another Sunday, any other day, just a nice, normal day for a stroll like he didn’t just kill Bruce’s own son-

Yeah, Jason feels like he has liberal use of betrayal. It’s just an old song he hums sometimes and lets others join in occasionally.

But there was an unspoken code, a silent right-of-passage, when it came to being Robin. A mutual understanding of sorts. You don’t back-stab another Robin. Ever. You don’t lie, cheat out, betray a fellow Robin. There were too many shared experiences when it came to being Batman’s, Bruce’s, Robin and that ultimately revolved all back to trust and knowing that things were still the same despite all these years. Being Robin was both the best thing to ever happen to someone and also the ultimate death sentence. You don’t just get to be Robin either. You’ve got to earn it, to prove yourself, to show that you can take it all on, to keep up with Batman and the ever changing and violent Gotham.

So, when Dick shows up with an apology on his lips and the expectation of being welcomed home after all this time, Jason punches him square in the jaw. It’s surreal, a part of him thinking his fist will just phase right through the man’s face, but his knuckles connect and if the sound of his fist against Dick’s jaw isn’t the most satisfying and cruel thing he’s ever heard, Jason doesn’t know what is.

It’s agony, nearly, to see the red blossom on his older brother’s cheek because, holy hell, that means it’s all real. That Dick is really alive and not still buried in that weed covered yard with decaying roses scattered on top of it. Dick is alive and Jason is furious because he’s supposed to be dead and Jason already tried so hard to fill the other man’s impossibly huge shoes and he was doing a damn good job at it. He likes to think so, at least.

But who cares, right? Who gives a shit when Dick is back now and it was all for nothing? Everyone can just go back to their normal routines now that the star player is back and they don’t need a fill-in like Jason to stick around. All that effort, all that time, all that trying all summing up into one big, Surprise, I’m not dead, from the man of the hour himself.

Jason avoids Dick after that. The man said he wasn’t staying long, just “checking in” with everyone like he was just on some business call for a few months and not dead.

And that’s the root of it, Jason thinks. That’s what really gnaws at him because Dick is treating the whole situation exactly like he was on some extended vacation and just forgot to tell anyone where he was going. Not like his absence literally turned their entire world upside down. Not like the loss, the emptiness, that literally echoed everywhere Jason went was consuming and terrifying. In those eight months, Jason had to toe the line between being the eldest and maintaining his identity as Red Hood, and that’s where Jason truly felt close to Dick. Felt like he finally got what Dick and Bruce’s arguments were about so many years ago, this constant war of wanting to be better, wanting to have freedom, wanting to stay yourself when there was a constant war of others trying to get you to fill a role that you don’t want.

Finally, Jason felt like he had some other important connection to his elusive older brother that had nothing to do with the man that housed them, only for it all to be thrown across the room and into the trash.

To keep it simple, bare-bones, really dumbed down, Dick lied. About being dead, of all things. Jason can get behind needing to lay low after all that, being stripped of your identity on live television wasn’t exactly great for their kind of lifestyle, but to just leave? To go out on some mission and leave the rest of them out to dry like that? No warning, no hints, no notes, nothing? God, at least Jason made an appearance. Granted, not the best sort of re-introduction, but at least he wasn’t trying to hide.

To say the least, Jason is hurting. The anger faded along with any sort of need to prove to Dick that he had stepped up when he left. Now, he just feels… shitty. In a way, this is what he had been half-way expecting. No one stays dead in this business. There is always someone with a back-up or ex-machina to save the day and bring back a fallen hero, villain, whatever. But there had just been something so final, so human in Dick’s death. In that moment, seeing the mask ripped off, seeing his brother’s face on T.V out of context, away from the normal flashiness that was being related to a billionaire, it had scared Jason because that was his brother, Dick Grayson, world’s most annoying man in the universe, on T.V; beaten, bloodied, bruised, and humiliated for everyone to see.

He’s always been jealous of how clean and clear Dick’s eyes looked. Just a simple and rare shade of blue, obnoxiously bright and searching. Jason’s mother used to say he had his father’s eyes, a muddy mix of blue and green. He’s never liked his eyes, but there was always something so attention grabbing with Dick’s. Seeing them on T.V, wide and blood-shot and bruised to hell; the blue was out of place and humanizing in a way that Jason just couldn't describe because it was simply Dick Grayson there. Not Nightwing. Not a hero. It was just Dick Grayson, world’s worst older brother ever, looking lost, defiant, and defeated all at once.

And that hurt.

The man is like some nasty disease that won’t leave him alone though. Their first meeting was two days ago and Jason is trying his best to ignore the knife in his chest, not literally, when Dick shows up. Just outside the Narrows on the roof of a bodega, Dick appears from where ever the fuck he’s been and walks over to Jason. It’s a cue, Jason knows, when thunder rumbles in the distance and if he were a bit more into literature, feeling a bit more melancholy for his freshman year of high school, Jason would say that a storm is coming for the both of them, not just Gotham.

Dick walks with his hands in his pockets, stuffed inside an old brown jacket that looks well-used and well-loved. Jason’s never seen the jacket before. Must’ve gotten it on his extended vacation. A part of Jason knows that Bruce was in on it too, that Bruce probably deserves just as much anger he’s dishing out towards Dick, maybe even more, but Jason’s tired of trying to play nice and get along. Dick is the one in front of him now, right here on a Wednesday night with the glowing, neon advertisement for Coke singing behind their heads and a run down, twenty year old convenience shop beneath their feet.

Dick is here and now when he should be dead.

Just like Jason should be.

“What do you want?” he asks, the metallic tin of his voice modulator diminishing some of the threat. It’s a known fact that Red Hood guards his territory with a viciousness rivaling a rabid dog. Outsiders aren’t welcome. Never welcome.

In contrast, Dick is mask-less. Civilian. Same clear blue eyes from eight months ago that were sealed shut the last time Jason saw them. A dark bruise stains Dick’s right cheekbone, the shape of knuckles and betrayal. It’s a good contrast.

“I came to say goodbye,” the other man answers, stopping just short of six feet in front of Jason, “and that I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I really am,” he insists when Jason remains silent. “Things just… happened too fast. It killed me to be away from you all for so long. I wanted to tell you, I did-”

“Really?” Jason interrupts lowly. “It killed you, huh?”

Dick sighs, a hand coming up to brush through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. You know it’s not.”

“I don’t know, Dicky. Times are changing, you know. One minute, you’re the star pupil, and the next I’m your backup. And now,” Jason shrugs, letting his hand come up to rest on the holster he keeps on his hip, “I’m not so sure about that.”

Dick is eyeing Jason like he’s looking at something he doesn’t like. Something that’s leaving a bad taste in his mouth. But that’s just something he’s going to have to deal with, isn’t it? Suck it up buttercup, and all that.

A laugh erupts from Jason as he truly takes it all in. “You know,” he chuckles, nothing humorous causing his mirth, “you really had me there for awhile. I bought you flowers, went to your funeral, dealt with all that shit, and yet here you are. In the flesh.” He laughs again, fingers curving steadily around the grip of his gun. “I think I liked you better dead, Dick.”

The older man frowns, brow dipping into a neat crease. Not a single wrinkle on his perfect, tan, not dead face. “The situation was unavoidable,” he says, like he actually believes a word he utters. “Batman needed a guy on the inside. The, hm, circumstances leading up to that set it up so that I could be that guy. It wasn’t exactly my choice to stay dead, Jay.”

“Names,” Jason snarks, that same anger he felt two days ago rearing its ugly head again. “You know, you say you didn’t have a choice, but I think there’s a clear distinction between dead and alive, don’t you? It might just be me, who knows because fuck if I do, but I think a warning woud’ve sufficed. A fucking warning. ”

Something must click in Dick’s head as his frown deepens. His hands are out of his jacket pockets now. They’re both tense.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Maybe another month. Two at most. When I get back, I’ll try and…” Dick trails off there, as if searching for the right words, but Jason doesn’t have the patience for him to find the right way to say the same bullshit he’s already heard before.

He’s so tired. So, so tired.

“We were fine without you,” he snarls, relishing in the way Dick’s eyes widen at the claim. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because you decide to go off on a little adventure. Newsflash, asshole: None of us need you. You can’t come back here and expect everything to fall back to the way things were just because you decide it’s time to show your face again.”

“I was doing what I thought was right,” Dick snaps back. “Look, I’m sorry you had to step up and be a decent person for once-”

“And there it is,” Jason growls, unholstering his gun. “You think you’re so much better than me. You’re just so goddamn smug you can’t even see your own mistakes. What, is my being here just too inconvenient for you? Can’t make all the little hero-worshipers fall back into line like they used to?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I did what I thought was best for everyone and I paid the price for it.”

Jason lunges, cutting the feet between them into inches. “What was best?” he yells, swinging with one fist and aiming with the other. “Who the hell are you to decide that?”

Dick retaliates, pushing away Jason with a kick that connects to his armored chest. It’s barely a glancing blow though and he’s charging forwards again, squeezing the trigger as a shot rings off into the air, missing Dick’s foot by a few centimetres. Another crack of thunder resounds in the distance and a bolt of lightning cracks open the dark sky. Dick rolls away from Jason’s tackle, on the balls of his feet and ready to jump away again.

“I didn’t come here to fight you,” Dick tries, widening his stance. “I just came to, god, I don’t know, Jay. I didn’t ask for this!”

“Cut the bull,” Jason says, raising his gun again. He’s got it trained on Dick’s mid-section and even though a part of him knows he’s not going to take the shot, another part of him has his finger itching towards the trigger. “None of us asked for any of the fuckery that comes our way, but we deal with it, right? I’m dead, you’re dead, the brat’s dead, we’re all dead!”

There’s another crack of thunder, one that brings the rain with it. It pours, instantly drenching the pair, and a sheet of gray divides them. There’s surely something poetic about it, the divide that surrounds them both, but Jason’s not one to dwell long.

“Well, I’m not dead anymore!” Dick screams through the rain. “I am alive! I’ve been dead for eight months and I don’t want to fucking be anymore! I want to come home, Jay. I am alive. Goddamnit, I am alive!”

“So why didn’t you tell us that? Tell any of us that? All of this, that’s on you , Dick. You want to know why there wasn’t a big fucking parade for you? Why no one was fighting over the chance to be the first one to get to shake your hand? It’s because we don’t trust you anymore. No one fucking wants you near them because that’s how badly you fucked up.”

He must strike a nerve because Jason sees something crumple on Dick’s face.

“I didn’t- I didn’t want to leave you guys, Jay. God, you’ve got to believe me on that. I had no choice. It was either I leave and do this for Batman or-”

That same anger rises up again. Anger from different directions, different thoughts, but ultimately because it’s about Batman. Always, always about Batman. What he wants. What he needs you to do. Because if you don’t do it, and someone dies, it’s your fault. And Dick has always been the suck-up, the one to come when called, because even after all their spats and all these years of silence between them, Dick was still a Robin first and goddamnit if Jason doesn’t understand that. He hates that he understands that need to please Batman, to do what he asks in the hope of just some tiny ounce of praise or acknowledgment, but Dick is a grown adult. He’s not Robin anymore.

None of them are.

Dick takes a step forward and Jason squeezes the trigger, feeling the recoil in his wrist as Dick freezes, the bullet breezing right past his armpit. His eyes are wide, finally taking the weapon in as it is, and there must be some realization going off inside Dick’s head because now he’s the one charging in, stance low and shifty, and Jason’s on the defense now. His finger is still on the trigger, just barely, and he’s raising it to aim again when a flying round-house knocks the gun from his hand and fist drives under his chin. It disorients him a bit because, damn, he didn’t actually expect Dick to fight back, Jason was trying to get him to go away, but now they’re both serious. They’re both dangerous.

It’s a no-weapons brawl, just fists and dirty kicks and the rain is still pounding away against the bodega. The rain has plastered Dick’s hair to his skull and Jason is grateful for his helmet because it’s clear the water is making it difficult for the older man to see. He takes advantage of this, striking down with his elbow on Dick’s trapezius and quickly hooking his left foot around his ankle. It works for a split second, Dick thrown off and unbalanced, before Dick is tumbling down and using his own momentum to pull Jason down with him.

They’re on their backs now, rough and cold cement bleeding through their jackets, and the neon Coke sign flickers in and out as thunder continues to roll and shake the world.

“You should’ve stayed dead,” Jason snarls, taking a jab at his older brother’s face. “You should’ve never come back.”

Dick frees one of his hands from underneath the massive bulk of Jason’s suit, palm striking the sides of his helmet. “Take off the godamn hood and say that to my face,” Dick pants, shoving one of his knees into Jason’s side. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me dead, Jay. Tell me you want me dead. ”

Another bolt of lightning splits the dark and its image refracts against the many puddles, and for a moment, the light sears into Jason’s eyes. He flinches against the burn and it’s enough hesitation for Dick to take the unguarded moment and flip Jason, crouching with one knee on his chest and the other digging into Jason’s forearm. They’re both breathing heavily, exhausted both physically and mentally, and he doesn’t bother to stop his brother as Dick reaches down and shoves the helmet off of his face.

Their eyes meet and Jason squints up at clear blue. Yeah, he hates that color. Hates it so much it feels like something ugly in his stomach, coiling and clenching. They’re both frowning but Dick just looks resigned. Jason hates that too. Now that he has the chance, he can see new scars on his brother’s face. New, finer lines and white and pink discoloration.

Funny how eight months can make someone look so much older.

“I wish you had stayed dead,” Jason finally says, hating himself all the more for it. “I wish you had never come back.”

Dick stumbles off of him and there’s a thin trail of red leaking from one of his eyebrows that keeps getting washed away. Jason doesn’t even remember hitting him there, but he must’ve been excessive. Must’ve over-done it. Just another thing he’s managed to fuck up. Check it off the list.

He sits up, feeling the ache of a sore back and numerous bruises, and watches as his brother leans heavily against the poles of the advertisement. The rain only seems to come down harder, bouncing off the yellow stained bodega roof. He gets to his feet slowly, careful to keep an eye on the slouching man, and treads over to pick up his helmet. His gun is closer to the bright neon sign and when he gets near enough, Dick looks up, something horribly heavy and sad, settling into his face.

“Okay,” is all he says, nodding once. “Okay, Jay.”

Dick reaches into his jacket pocket once more, fiddling with something, but Jason’s too preoccupied putting his helmet back on to really pay attention to it. They’re done fighting. Done with whatever all of that was. His hair is soaked, his jacket is going to have a layer of mildew on it in the morning, and Jason is tired. Beat. He can’t find the will-power to truly be bothered with anything else.

This is his territory so he’s not technically fleeing, but that’s what it looks like. Tail between his legs, off to lick his wounds, Jason’s sure that’s what Dick is thinking (he knows that’s not true, he knows this, and he’s got a little secret screaming, pounding away in the back of his skull, but Jason’s too burned out to deal with it, to address it). He walks to the edge of the roof with his back turned on his older brother, his alive and breathing, long lost brother, and jumps off, sliding down the fire escape and landing on the grimy streets below. His boots squelch in the rain, and there’s water logged into his socks, but Jason ignores it in favor of staring ahead. Refusing to look back.

Here’s the thing about being a Robin that everyone who’s been one before knows.

You rely on each other. There’s no codependency, not really, but there is a certain degree of reliance on past and current Robins. Robin is the inspiration. Not Batman. Batman doesn’t inspire little kids to go out in the night and get punched in the face and witness cruelty so awful you have nightmares for years after. Batman doesn’t inspire light and forgiveness and mercy; that’s all Robin’s doing. The bright colors, the chatter, the youth. That’s all on Robin, the little child weapons they are, and the shared experience of being that for Batman is a bond that runs so much deeper than blood. Thick and interwoven and relied upon so much more heavily than a simple crest or uniform.

And here’s that screaming secret that vibrates inside Jason’s skull: he’s happy Dick’s back. That Dick’s alive. At the end of the day, Dick was the first Robin, the first light, and having him snuffed out was a world that got three shades darker, bleaker. It was Dick’s Robin that truly gave it the twinge of hope all the Robins after carry with them; he was the model, the mold, they shaped themselves after. Him being dead changed that perspective for the worse because the first Robin made it. That’s what was so important, what tips the scales for the confidence of all Robins after. Dick made it. Survived being Robin, survived past Robin, and became his own hero.

Dick outlived being Robin and that was the ultimate goal. To survive.

So him dying was the last straw but now that he’s back, alive, everything was going to be okay again. Yeah, they’re all still messed up from it, there’s going to be a lot of trust built back up again, but they’re Robins for Christ's sake. Thicker than blood, stronger than a crest, relied on more than Batman. And maybe Jason’s being sentimental, still trying to be more eloquent than his sophomore English education allowed him to be, but God, he’s trying. He’s trying so hard despite the ache that wears down his bones and the fire that consumes his brain.

That’s why he gives in. Turns around. Looks back. Does what he thought he was too stubborn to do, but things change and-

The neon sign is brighter. No, that’s not right. There’s another source of that eerie, glowing light and Jason’s eyes widen as he sees a person step through it. Another figure, broad, muscular, unfamiliar, and they’re heading straight for Dick. His brother. Who is still leaning against the advertisement poles. Who’s not doing a damn thing to avoid the stranger that’s fast approaching.

Soreness and fatigue forgotten, Jason starts sprinting, boots pounding against the pavement as he cranes his neck upwards to watch the stranger continue to advance.

“Dick!” he yells in warning, drowned out with the rain. “Dick, move!”

He slams into the fire escape, hands scraping up the ladder as he hauls himself three steps at a time, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. He slips, losing his footing, and Jason grunts as he feels the pull on his shoulder and his knees bang into the sides of the bodega. He pushes on though, gripping the metal tightly and finally reaching the top.

He’s pulling himself over, gasping and searching, and he sees the man tugging Dick closer to the strange light, what Jason thinks must be some sort of portal, and before he’s even gotten a leg over the edge, his right hand is scrambling for purchase on his gun. He takes aim and fires without a second thought and curses aloud when it jams.

“Dick!” he yells again, throwing the useless weapon away and falling over onto the roof. “Stop! Stop! What’re you doing?”

His brother just trudges on though, bicep gripped by the stranger that continues to drag him closer and closer to the pulsating light, ghoulishly pink and saturating the air with an ominous buzz. Another flash of lightning illuminates the sky and Jason trips over himself in his haste, crashing into the slick cement. He whips his head up, too far away, too late, as the stranger disappears fully into the portal, Dick just a few inches away.

“Wait!” Jason cries, still attempting to rise off of his knees. Damn the rain. Damn the weight of his grief. Damn it all, get up. Get up. “Dick, stop! Stop!”

The rain is loud though and there’s a divide between the two of them, mixes of gray, pink, and red light. His brother half turns, watching as the younger stumbles towards him, and Jason can’t hear anything, can hardly process what’s even happening now, but Dick’s lips move in what Jason thinks is, Goodbye, and Jason screams, lunging as his brother fades into the light.

He falls, smashing into the cement once again as he fails to reach for his brother’s hand, and lands where the portal had just been. He lays there on his chest, heaving and attempting to breathe through his helmet, but it’s too hard, too suffocating, and Jason rips it off and flings it as far away from him as he can. His hands clench into fists and he fights back the urge to cry as he slams his fists into the roof. Bam-Bam-Bam.

Something cracks in his knuckles and Jason stops at the pain, shifting back and hanging his head between his knees. There’s a vicious burn in his eyes, his ugly, muddy green eyes, and Jason swipes at them furiously.

“We just got you back,” he whispers through gritted teeth. “We just got you back, Dick, and you, you just-”

A clap of thunder rattles the thin poles of the Coke advertisement as its lights finally flicker out. The night is dark without its glow and Jason is left in obscurity.

“What have I done?"

#bad things happen bingo #what have i done?#Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Spyral #Agent 37 #Red Hood #viceturtle #fanfic #my fic

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marcilled · 4 years

Text

This is a personal post.

I'm beginning to realize that, for a really long time now, I've been substituting true self esteem for something else entirely

Instead of actually feeling proud of myself, like an accomplished person, I've been forcing myself into the forefront of everyone's attention, while simultaneously remaining as "just a part of a larger whole", so that i didnt have to feel like it was 100% my fault whenever I fucked up (although, I usually blamed myself anyways- not because of a clear consciousness or anything, but out of a bitter self hatred)

I put myself front and center at a carousel of things that only I could apparently be good at- not because I think I'm the best, but because I think I'm a freak for being as meticulously obsessed with things as I am. This leaves little room for my friends to actually bounce off of my experience, because I see anyone else I know encroaching on that skill that I have at the only thing I feel like I'm any good at, and it feels like a threat. I don't acknowledge it that way because I know it'd be shitty, but there's this underlying feeling that I'm being one-upped anyways...

I ended up hurting some people really dear to me because of this twisted way of thinking. I’m pretty sure I lost the privilege of calling them friends as a result. It took me a few days of self-isolation, crying, and mindlessly zonking out while playing civ until the sun came up, but I think I have a fuller picture of what my issue is. It’s not as simple as just, “I need to stop hating myself”. I recognized that- but the emotions were too raw at the time for me to really understand the depth and complexity to the issue.

At its face... I need to accept that I’m not annoying or a freak for having a deep interest in the things that I do- maybe it makes me “weird”, but I need to learn how to own that, how to feel like being weird in that way is a good thing, even if not everyone else thinks the same.

At the same time, I need to accept that my knowledge about my special interests isn’t the only thing that does, or could ever, give me “worth”. I have this conception in my head, that I’m only ever going to be good at this, or that I only have value for the things I’m proficient at, which are all very limited in scope.

People always say that having weird special interests is fine & valid... They go on about all the ways we shouldn’t be bullied for having special interests, for conceptualizing the world through the lens of them at times. But all of that is stuff I already know and accept. Something I don’t think gets talked about as much is how autistic people internalize that bullying. How, sometimes, for people like me, we can turn that same hatred and malice in towards ourselves- even if it’s not something we actually truly believe, or would ever apply to other people.

I’ve always had this sort of cocoon of self hatred surrounding me, for as long as I can remember. It’s terrible, full of thorns, and always uncomfortable, never letting me truly be myself, let alone think for or even act for myself. But it was built as a “protection” from the outside- sort of. If I hate myself enough, for all the reasons that I’m already hated by others, then nothing can hurt me anymore, because I’m already telling myself all of the most hurtful things I possibly could. It’s fucked up, and it doesn’t really help to protect myself from anything- it just makes everything harder.

My friends aren’t “competition”, they aren’t going to take away what makes me special by showing the same level as interest in something as me. If anything, I should be thankful that someone actually cares as much as I do. That’s all I ever wanted, right? To have friends that are as passionate as I am? So why did I have to throw it all away by seeing that as a threat?

Thinking about this, it’s easy to go down the path of self-hatred again. But, that’s how I got into this mess... I also wanna say... For anyone reading in on this, and concerning yourself with the what-ifs of the situation... This is never stuff I consciously thought of, until I was made aware of this behavior in myself. It was really a subconscious type of thing. But the harm is all the same. Make whatever you want out of that, I’m not gonna ask to be babied about it, I fucked up. I fucked up, and I’m sorry, if you’re actually reading this.

But, I didn’t make this post as an apology to the people I hurt. I made it as a sort of... self-reflection. Maybe it can still be an apology? I don’t know. I don’t think they want an apology. So, this isn’t really about that, or asking for forgiveness. This is just about... me pondering on all of my issues, and how I might move on from this. I hope those former friends are able to move on as well... I was kind of a huge asshole. But it’s never easy to let go of close friends that way, even if it’s necessary for your own wellbeing. So, I hope they’re doing ok. and... I hope they know I don’t hate them. and that I’ll be ok, too. I’m just sad. Sad and full of regrets.

I think I’ve rambled on enough for now. This was kind of hard to type, and I might delete it later, since it’s something really personal to be sharing to, potentially, 3000+ eyeballs... (as if that many of my tumblr followers actually would click on a readmore I post tho...), thanks for reading though. and to those who have been worrying about me- I’ll be ok, thanks for your concern.

#don't rb.

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (38/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for being my beta, @imagnifika for the cover art, and all of you for being awesome, whether you read this story or not ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35| 36 | 37 | 38

-/-

The thing about being a starting pitcher is that Killian rarely plays. It’s every five days usually, and Killian is too competitive to simply be able to sit and watch while everyone else gets to be out there on the field. If it wasn’t absolute murder on his shoulder, he’d be in Al’s office every damn day asking why he can’t be out there.

Understandably, having to watch his teammates play without being able to help has been killing him more in this past week than it did while he was out on injury, and that was actual hell.

Rob did a fantastic job that first night clinching the first game for them by making it nearly impossible for the Dodgers to get on base, and Killian, while he didn’t play his best, pitched a good enough game and had help from Eric’s three-run homerun for them to win the second. It’s simply that everything after that has been a bit of a nightmare.

They lost two incredibly close games in a row in California to tie things up, won the next one, and now they could clinch the entire Series at home in New York.

Tonight.

With Rob pitching and Killian sitting on the bench.

And as much as Killian would love to get to be an active part of it all like he was during the winning game last year, he would give absolutely everything for them to win tonight so that he doesn’t have to get up on the mound tomorrow. The pressure and desire and want is so damn intense that it makes Killian’s heart ache, but he knows that this isn’t really about him. No part of him could be selfish enough to want to lose today so that he could have the possibility of the glory tomorrow.

That would be ridiculous, and he doesn’t know what the hell he’d do if he wakes up tomorrow morning with a stiff shoulder and he’s got to get out there and play.

Sighing, Killian stretches out his legs to the seat in front of him as a whisper of wind whirls through the stadium to bring in the late October chill. He fiddles with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, pulling them down to cover his wrists where chill bumps are rising, and he wishes that he had a hat on to protect himself from weather, his ears likely red from the cold. It’s only seven in the morning, most of the stadium completely empty except for the maintenance crew and a few people in the offices, but Killian knew that this would be his only time to take it all in with no one around him.

An empty stadium is nearly as magical as a packed one.

He’s spent his entire life building up to things like this. Sure, there were times when he had other goals. He wanted to be a teacher, wanted to get his degree and help others, but that was always the fallback goal. It was never the main one.

Baseball has been his life.

Lately, though, Killian’s been thinking about life outside of the game more than ever. It’s insane because he feels like he’s one of those obnoxious people who only lives and breathes baseball all the time, especially with what’s going on right now, but his mind has managed to find a way to wander elsewhere.

There are saved searches on his phone about going back to Vanderbilt to finish his degree and a sent message in his email to an advisor asking if it would be possible for him to finish in New York instead of having to take classes in person. He hasn’t told anyone that he’s thinking about it, not yet. Telling someone makes it real, and Killian’s not entirely sure that he wants it to be real quite yet. He’s a grown ass man, but change is still terrifying when he’s grown comfortable in his life.

Baseball isn’t forever, though, and while he may still work in the sport later on, he’s not going to be someone who goes throughout his entire life living out the glory days through memory.

Tonight, might be another big moment that defines his life, but the past six months have been pretty life changing as well. Hell, the past year has been.

Things are changing in ways that he wants and ways that he doesn’t, and that’s simply how it is.

“So, we woke up at the ass crack of dawn so that you could sit out here all by yourself?”

Killian twists his head to the side to see Emma standing a few seats over dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, scarf wrapped around her neck and Yankees cap on her head. He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he didn’t even hear her move toward him.

“Hey, love,” he smiles, reaching up and holding out his hand so that the cool tip of her fingers touch his as he intertwines their fingers while she settles down into the seat next to him and props her feet up on the seat in front of her. “I told you that you didn’t have to come with me.”

Sitting here reminds him of another time in San Francisco when he put his heart on his sleeve and willingly handed it over to Emma to crush before they decided that they would give the two of them a go and simply see how things worked out. If she had said no that day, he could have listened. But damn is he glad that she said yes.

Or, well, technically, he was the one saying yes.

Either way, everything in his life shifted.

“I know, but you get all moody and introspective, and I didn’t want you psyching yourself out.”

“I would not do that.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Just a little bit.” His hand flexes against hers, shifting his fingers the slightest bit so that he can get a more comfortable grip on Emma’s hands. “What have you been doing while I’ve been sitting here being introspective and psyching myself out?”

“I was taking some pictures. It’s kind of cool to see the calm before the storm, you know? And then David called me with some work stuff and to give me shit about us making out being all over Instagram, so I sat on a bench and talked to him for awhile.”

“He called you this early? Is he crazy?”

“I think David forgets that not everyone wakes up this early, and he has no qualms about waking me up. Usually I’m much meaner to him.”

“I’m surprised you’re not being mean to me.”

“The coffee we had at home really works wonders.”

Killian almost opens his mouth to say something about Emma referring to his apartment as home. But only almost. They’re both aware of the living situation, have joked about it to each other and others before, and they don’t need some kind of official discussion about things. It’ll all happen naturally, and when the time comes, they’ll talk about it. For now, things are perfect just as they are.

Life has been crazy with his injury and then Walsh and Brennan and the aftermath of them being absolute assholes. It’s gotten crazier with the World Series and how much press he’s now getting, both for the games and for his relationship with Emma, much of which is now weirdly being caught on camera. All Killian really wants is a bit of normal here.

The sun continues to rise in the sky, darkness shifting into an orange glow that will eventually turn into bright sunshine that makes it difficult to see without a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose. The grass on the field is wet with condensation, water coating the blades, and if it wasn’t freezing out there, he thinks he’d go out and sit along the edge of the back wall instead of in a stadium seat.

Bringing Emma’s hand to his lips, he presses a kiss to each of her knuckles before pulling their joined hands back down to rest on his thigh.

“I think,” he starts, not entirely sure where he’s going, “that I could stay out here forever. I don’t know…maybe I feel things too deeply compared to everyone else, but this place has always felt like home. I can’t imagine what things would be like if I’d been drafted somewhere else or if I’d never been called up at all.”

She hums next to him, and Killian looks down to see Emma’s thumb rubbing across his knuckles like she always seems to do. “What’s that thing you’re always saying? There’s no such thing as ‘what ifs.’ Not in life and not in sport. What happened, happened.”

“Doesn’t keep me from wondering.”

“It doesn’t keep anyone from wondering, twenty-nine.” Her hand squeezes his again, and Killian’s mind dares to ask once more what his life would be like had he not met Emma. It’s a question he doesn’t want an answer to. “What if my parents had kept me? What if Ruth had never decided to foster a shitty teenager with an attitude issue? What if I had never met Neal or Walsh or Ruby or anyone who has impacted my life they the way they have? What if I never met you?”

“You’d be missing out on the best sex of your life.”

Emma knocks her foot into his as he snickers at his own awful joke. “You’re full of yourself.”

He shrugs. “It happens. And I know. I’m just – my stomach has been in knots over all of this for an entire month. I’m not sure my body is going to make it ten more hours. Or hell, possibly even thirty-six. I’ve had to hype myself up for all of this, and I’m a little…fuck, Swan, I’m exhausted and excited, and I’m scared I’m going to have some kind of adrenaline crash.”

It’s Emma’s turn to bring their hands together so that she can brush her lips over his knuckles. His heart stutters at the movement.

God, he loves her. It’s actually insane how much. Truly, it shouldn’t be possible.

“For one, getting up and coming to the stadium before the sun even fully rises is not something that’s going to help with your exhaustion.”

He twists his head to look at her, and she’s got mischief in her eyes and a smirk stretched across her lips that he has to kiss away. She still tastes like coffee.

“Also,” she whispers against his lips, kissing him again, “you’re not going to crash. Not yet. I know you’re really big on not riding on what happened last year, but you’ve got to do that. You’ve been through this before, and you made it. Those butterflies in your stomach are being felt by everyone who’s involved with this team, and hanging out by yourself the entire time isn’t going to help things. Why don’t we go get breakfast together? Or maybe go back to bed?”

“How about a game of catch?”

“What?” Emma laughs as she pulls back from him with furrowed brows? “I am not playing catch with you. Are we five?”

Killian shakes his head and chuckles as he stands from the seat and begins to stretch his shoulders out, letting go of Emma’s hand and rolling his shoulders back as he laughs at himself.

“We’re twenty-eight. I know you remember your birthday last week. And come on, Swan. I play a game of really expensive catch for a living. It’s part of my job to work on my arm today, just in case, and I need a practice partner.”

“That’s what Will and Eric or August are for.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, reaching forward to tug her up only for her weight to go dead so that he can’t move her, “but they’re not here. You are.”

Emma closes her gaping mouth, and her lips move in different directions while her nose scrunches up so that little crinkles appear around her eyes under the shade of her hat. “Okay, but if there’s one misogynistic quip about me throwing like a girl, I’m breaking up with you on the spot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with throwing like a girl, Swan. It’s pretty badass. But there’s something wrong with throwing like shit.”

“I’m not going to throw like shit.” Killian starts walking over the chairs, easily maneuvering through the stands with Emma following behind him. “But I ask you to remember that while I pride myself in my fitness, it’s in things like Pilates and running or boxing. It’s not in baseball. You, meanwhile, do this for a living.”

“These sound like a hell of a lot of excuses.”

“That’s because they are.”

“There’s no excuses in baseball.”

“I thought it was crying.”

“Fuck no,” Killian scoffs. “There’s a lot of crying in baseball, and anyone who tells you something different is a liar.”

“I can’t believe you just called Tom Hanks, America’s sweetheart, a liar.”

They have to go back through the tunnels to get a bucket of balls and some gloves as well as a few towels to wipe the grass in the bullpen down since it’s wet and neither of them are wearing the right shoes for this, but they do eventually get to the point where he can lightly toss the ball back and forth between the two of them. He’s not going to pitch at full speed, not until he has Will later, but it’s soothing to simply be out here getting a little movement in. He’s been back for two weeks, practicing for four, but it’s still all brand new again to him and shaded under a light that wasn’t there before.

Emma isn’t bad at all. She’s actually rather good, a natural some might say, and he jokes with her that if sports broadcasting doesn’t work out for her, she might take up a career in this. Naturally that gets him an eye roll or two, but she keeps on throwing until the sun is high in the sky and the day has truly begun.

Killian’s ready for it.

Everything seems to pass quickly then. The entirety of the Dodgers team walks out onto the field for their scheduled practice while he and Emma are still messing around in the bullpen, somewhere between still doing a bit of practice and Killian backing Emma up against the wall to make out with her. No one sees them, though, the loud blaring of music startling the two of them away from each other, and Killian presses Emma a little further into the wall while he buries his face in her neck so that he can muffle the sound of his laughter.

He’s not entirely sure that works, especially when Emma is doing the same, but they eventually manage to grab their things and slip inside so that an entire professional team isn’t aware of the fact that he was using the early morning stadium to kiss his girlfriend.

That would certainly have been something.

There is an actual practice that Killian has to attend today, an hour of which needs to be spent with him running on the treadmill and then getting massaged by Archie to work out any knots and kinks in his shoulder and to make sure that it’s not inflamed. Killian is always terrified that he’s going to be told that his shoulder is inflamed again and that he won’t be able to play on a day where he thinks he’s going to be able to. That would completely screw up the lineup, and…No, now isn’t the time to think about that.

Killian tells Emma that he’ll see her later, that he’ll probably come bother her wherever the network has her sitting even though he’s splitting the time in the game between the dugout, the clubhouse, and the suite where his family is going to be sitting. She has to go home and get ready for the day, and even if she didn’t, he very much doubts that she’d like to stick around and watch him run.

And then they’re both off.

Let the game begin.

-/-

“Are you guys going to win today?”

Now, that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?

Killian looks down at Roland who is dressed in head to toe Yankees gear, all his dad’s of course, and there’s a nervous smile on the kid’s face. Roland is almost never nervous. He has that childlike faith in everything even with all of the tragedy in his life of having lost his mom, and he nearly always believes that things are going to work out. There’s no good or bad, just the belief that things will work out the way you want them to simply by the power of wanting them to.

If only it were that simple.

“I don’t know, lad,” Killian answers honestly as he reaches down to pick Roland up, easily putting him on his shoulders as Killian walks him down the hallways to the suite he’s staying in for the game. Roland was in the clubhouse for all of the pre-game celebrations, and the kid heard and saw things that he probably didn’t need to hear for several more years.

A decade, really. Maybe two.

Yeah, definitely two decades. There was some creative swearing.

“Why not?”

“Well, because we can’t predict the future, and the other team is really good too.”

“But I want to win.”

“Me too,” he sighs as he pushes open the doors to lead to the suites. “And everyone is going to try their best. But you know what?” “What?”

“I think if you cheer extra hard, it might help your dad out, okay? He might lose because the other team is good, but you’ve got to cheer him on no matter what.”

Roland’s ankles hit against Killian’s collarbone, and Killian pretends that the bony lad doesn’t hurt like hell when he hits him. “I can cheer really loud. Like, Grandma says that it makes her ears hurt.”

“If you’re not making Grandma’s ears hurt, you’re not cheering loud enough.”

That sentence pretty much sums up why he’s the best uncle in the world, Killian thinks. It’s basically the equivalent of giving kids a pint of ice cream right before they go back to their parents.

Killian pushes open the suite doors and ducks down underneath them so that he doesn’t knock Roland out. Everyone is situated on the couches and around the tables in front of the TV, and no one pays him any mind as he puts Roland down so that he can run to where Addy, Lucy, and Leo are. He imagines that between the four of them, they’re going to make everyone’s ears hurt from their screaming.

Maybe Killian will go spend time sitting in the dugout instead of in here, but it’s a long game. He’s got time to move around as long as he does make time to study Robin’s throwing patterns against each batter.

“Hey,” he murmurs to Elsa in the kitchen area while she pops a chip into her mouth. “I don’t know that it’s good that you’re playing hooky from work and letting the girls do the same with school.”

“Shut up,” she says in between crunchy bites of food, her hand covering her mouth. “You think that joke is funny every time, but it’s not.”

“It is.” Killian dips his head down and presses a kiss to Elsa’s cheek. “But I fully approve of the skipping work thing, especially when your husband’s lazy ass took the entire week off.”

“He’s supporting his baby brother.”

“Younger, Els. Younger. I don’t need you encouraging that.”

Her bottom lip sticks out. “But it’s so fun to see your ears get all red with embarrassment.”

“Every single thing I’ve ever said about me being glad to have an older sister in you and Anna? Yeah, I’m taking all of those back.”

“You can’t.” She swipes another chip through the dip. “They’ve been said, and I keep them all in my heart right next to where Addy told me that even if she got to choose her mom, she’d still choose me.”

“Classy.”

“I know,” Elsa laughs. “Where’s your better half?”

“She’s working.” Killian pinches his brows together. “So we’re not even going to pretend that I could possibly be the better half?”

“Nope. Just like Liam isn’t the better half either. And don’t make some quip about being equals. Just let me have this. I’m already stress eating chips.” He laughs while reaching forward to drag the bowl away from Elsa so that she can’t eat anymore, but she doesn’t let him, grabbing onto it and pulling it back. “I didn’t say to stop me. World Series week is like the holidays. The calories don’t count until my jeans feel a little snug next week.”

“Ahh,” Killian sighs in understanding. “That’s likely a good thing for how many baked goods I’ve sent your way.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the dugout?” Ariel questions as she steps up to them with her glass of water in her hand. “It’s kind of a big game.”

“It’s also kind of the top of the first inning, and I’m not playing.”

“Excuses.”

“A legitimate one. How’re you holding up, A?”

She waves him away and reaches for the pitcher of water. “I’m fine. Eric is the nervous wreck. I have enough confidence in you guys that I won’t worry until, you know, we’re losing.”

“Only worrying when we’re losing? What kind of method is that? You have to worry all the damn time.”

“That’s how you have a heart attack, and I have not suffered eating healthily and exercising so much to have a heart attack this young.”

“This is where Liam would tell you that it can happen to anyone in any age.”

“Where is Liam?” Killian questions as he looks around the suite for his brother only to have him nowhere to be seen.

“He and David are sitting in David’s regular seats because David was complaining about Mary Margaret and Leo not wanting to use them. I imagine he’ll be up here soon when he realizes how expensive food is to buy.”

“They’re such old men.”

“Says the man who was wearing a sweater while drinking a cup of tea and reading in his apartment last night instead of coming out to dinner with all of us.”

Killian sputters a bit as he narrows his eyes at Ariel. “First of all, there is nothing wrong with doing any of that. Second of all, how could you possibly know that?”

Ariel shrugs, mischief in all of her features. “Emma sent it in the group text.”

Of course she did. A man can’t even relax in his own home without being called out for it.

“Who is in this group text exactly?”

“Oh, just me, Elsa, Anna, and Belle. Don’t worry. Not everyone gets to see the embarrassing pictures of you drooling in your sleep.”

He’s going to kill Emma.

Or get his revenge. Somewhere in between those two.

There’s a loud groan from everyone watching the game, and that’s when Killian is reminded that there’s a game going on. He didn’t know that he could possibly forget, but apparently being teased about how he spends his nights will let him do that. When he sees what’s happening out on the field, though, Killian wishes that he’d been able to completely and totally forget about the game.

There are three men on base for the Dodgers, only one out, and one of their best hitters is up to bat.

Fuck.

This is not a good start.

This is a long game, but bad starts can change the momentum of absolutely everything. It gets in everyone’s head. The losing team is convinced that they’re going to lose, that they can’t come back from this, and the team that’s ahead gets all the belief in the world with their abilities.

Momentum shifts are everything, and it’s not time for the momentum to shift. Not yet.

And yet it does.

Robin throws what Killian knows is a good fastball and Rob’s specialty, but Stewart hits a sharp line drive down past third base that Arthur doesn’t get to. By the time that he does, the Dodgers already have two runs, Stewart is on second, and Ferguson is sliding into home before the ball can get there.

0-3 for the Dodgers eleven minutes in.

Shit.

Now it’s time for Ariel and everyone else to get nervous.

And it never gets better. Not really. There are times and chances and shots that have Killian grabbing onto his hair in frustration, but nothing comes of it. Nothing at all. Every single time there’s a real chance, something happens: the Dodgers have an unbelievable get, someone fumbles when the Yankees should have an easy chance at a double play, or every single person somehow forgets how to hit.

Until they don’t.

Because now it’s the bottom of the ninth, and after an absolutely incredible eighth inning, it’s now 7-9.

They’re only down by two runs.

(Two runs.)

Killian is pacing back and forth in the dugout now exhausting every bit of emotional energy he has left in him. He left the suite the moment that first inning was over, texting Emma and Liam that there’d been a change of plans and he wouldn’t be meeting up with them after all. There was no way that he was going to be anywhere other than with his team when things were going to hell.

Being two runs behind is both nothing and everything.

There have been plenty of times when they’ve come back from a deficit like this. There have been plenty more when they’ve blown a two-run lead. And yet, like fifty-five thousand people in this stadium know, this isn’t any other game. This is The Game, and they’re closing in on the golden hour of chances.

It’s win now or come back tomorrow for one last chance of glory or crushing defeat.

Best of seven means nothing when there’s the possibility of there only being one game left.

“You’re going to exhaust yourself if you don’t sit down,” Robin tells him from his seat behind him on the bench.

Will has just stepped up to home plate, his bat in hand and feet in position, and Killian can’t breathe. His lungs have stopped taking in air.

“How could you possibly be sitting down for this? Is your blood not on fire?”

“I just pitched five innings, mate. My adrenaline high is gonedown. I’m exhausted.”

The ball is launched through the air toward Will, and Killian immediately knows that he shouldn’t take a swing at it.

He does.

Strike one.

“Shit,” Killian murmurs, kicking his foot at a water cup on the ground. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“Funny, Fisher, I told your wife the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be warming up?”

Killian doesn’t even have to look to know that Eric is rolling his eyes. “I’m grabbing my stuff to do just that.” There’s a warm hand on Killian’s back, and he turns to look at it just as a “ball” is called. “Take some deep breaths, man. We’ve got this.”

“Aye,” Killian sighs, “we’ve got this.”

Strike two.

“Shit.”

Ball two.

Ball three.

Foul ball.

Killian’s phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he opens it up to see Emma’s name.

Emma: They’re having to censor you on television right now.

Emma: Just thought you might want to know that. Literally every time they show the dugout, you’re cursing. Ruby is getting a kick out of it.

Killian moves to text her back, to say something witty in response, but then the wood of Will’s bat is making contact with the ball and it’s flying gone, gone, gone…

Until it’s caught in the outfield.

Out one.

“Fuck.”

They’ve still got a shot. They have to. And as much as Killian hates cheering for Arthur King and hates that he only got a monetary fine for what he said to Emma and about her, he’s exactly who Killian has to cheer for now as Arthur hits a line drive that enables him to get on first base.

That’s progress.

It’s even more progress when Eric hits a triple sending Arthur into home.

8-9.

Holy fuck.

They might do this. They just might.

Killian still can’t breathe, but this is obviously his natural state now. This is how he’s going to have to live out the rest of his life.

Emma: Okay, now I understand all of the cursing. I’m freaking out.

Killian: Me too. We make quite the pair.

Emma: The best pair. It’s all going to be okay, twenty-nine.

He smiles down at his phone, his lungs taking in a bit of air at that.

Killian: It will be. I love you.

Killian: A frankly ridiculous amount.

“Out,” the umpire yells, and Killian immediately rests his head against the dugout railing, his nails digging into the hem of his sweatshirt as sweat drips down his back even with the late October chill whipping through the stadium as the night fully comes into effect, the sun long since gone.

Out two.

“For fuck’s sake,” Al yells, throwing his hat to the ground and slapping his hand against the railing. “Why would you swing at that, Whale? You could have fucking walked, and then we’d have two men on base with one out. That changes everything.”

It’s not Whale’s fault. It’s not. He messed up, sure, but it’s a team effort. Killian doesn’t always believe that when he’s the one pitching. It’s hard to get that out of your head when you’re being yelled at by managers and fans and people online sending death threats, but it’s true. It’s not one person out there even when it feels like it.

Killian’s going to have to remind himself of that tomorrow.

No.

He can’t go there. They’re not going to play tomorrow. Booth is up to bat, and he’ll get Eric home. Then it’ll be tied up, and they’ll have their shot to close this out right here and right now.

Hope bubbles up in Killian’s chest, his throat closing up with excitement and anticipation, and that lack of breathing thing comes back again as his knuckles go white from the strength of his grip on the railing. When he looks to the right, he sees that Robin’s knuckles are just the same.

They might do this.

Roland and Addy have to be screaming their heads off up in the suite. Killian almost wants to text Elsa or Liam to see what’s happening, but his eyes are glued to the field as August swings his bat at the very first ball.

It’s a fucking foul.

Strike one.

“Come on Booth,” Will shouts out, clapping his hands together. “You’ve got it, man. Be smart about it.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s helping, Scarlet.”

“It is, Professor Jones. I’m a great motivational speaker.”

Killian’s lips stretch into a smile, a bit of calm returning, until the ball flies from the mound again, whipping through the air and curving into the strike zone at the last minute.

August doesn’t swing.

Strike two.

The stadium absolutely erupts then, hands clapping together and feet hitting against the floor while thousands of people scream, a mix of cheers and boos for August. If anyone can handle this kind of pressure, can handle the weight of world on his shoulders and the pressure, it’s August.

Pressure is a privilege.

He’s likely not feeling too privileged right now.

And as suddenly as the noise started, it calms down. While there are still people talking and cheering and making all kinds of noise, Killian can’t focus on any of it. All he can focus on is what’s right in front of him.

One. Two. Three.

Foul.

One. Two. Three.

Foul.

Killian’s stomach flips, his entire hand going white, and Will is grabbing onto Killian’s forearm so tightly that he could break the bone there.

One.

Two.

Three.

There’s a thwack of ball against Booth’s back, and it absolutely flies into the air. It’s flying, and Killian nearly jumps out of the dugout to get a better view of where it’s going. It’s got to be a home run. It’s got to be. That’s where it’s headed, and Killian’s arms break out in gooseflesh beneath the thick material of his sweatshirt.

They’re about to win the fucking World Series for the second time in a row.

Holy shit.

But then the ball dips.

It dips, right at the line of the back fence, and the ball is caught.

The. Ball. Is. Caught.

The ball is caught, Booth is out, and the game is over.

And just like the ball, Killian’s mood dips, every high hope crashing down around him and weighing down on his shoulders while his stomach flips before everything heavily settles in its place. This isn’t how today was supposed to end. They were supposed to come back from their bad start. They were supposed to win.

They didn’t, though. They lost, and even though Killian tries to be encouraging to everyone around him as they all finish up their post-game on-field routines, in his head he knows that they’ve only got one more shot at this.

They’ve got one more shot, and a lot of it is resting in the palm of his hands. Killian has been a screw up for this team so many times before, and he doesn’t know if he can do that again.

He can’t let everyone down again.

The mood is subdued in the clubhouse as everyone strips out of their clothes, just a constant murmuring of curses and complaints. Even Al is quiet when he’d usually be fired up yelling at everyone, a combination of disbarring comments and encouragements, and that may be the most shocking part of it all.

Reporters begin to fill the room as well as agents and wives and the occasional child, and Killian sits in his locker with his head between his legs taking several deep breaths to calm himself down. His heart is beating far too quickly. It’s thumping in between his ears, and that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

It’s simply not.

“Hey.”

The voice is soft and very much Emma’s, and Killian looks up to see her softly smiling down at him, Jeff no longer trailing behind her with his camera.

The smile that stretches across his lips is forced and half-assed, and he knows that Emma can tell. She steps in between his knees so that his head rests against her stomach while her hands brush through his sweaty hair. They don’t say anything else, simply stay there together while Killian breathes in the scent of Emma’s perfume on her sweater and shivers run down his spine at her touch.

He is undeniably a fan of every part of her, but being able to simply be, to exist, with her is one of his favorites. There’s nothing quite so soothing as knowing the person you love will always be by your side no matter what happens.

They lost. They did. It’s what happened, and there’s no changing it.

Tomorrow is the last chance.

It all comes down to the last one.

-/-

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#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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huangsilks · 4 years

Text

let your walls down for me (z.cl)

summary: worries about university, SATs, and moving away weighed heavily like a burden on your shoulders. one thing you knew for sure, though, was that your friendship with him wouldn’t falter, and you found solace in that.

pairing: bestfriend!chenle x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

a/n: hhHHH this is my first actual fic and i’m not v satisfied djsjdjjfjd but i enjoyed writing it and that’s the thing that matters!! if anyone is reading this rn and wants to be friends: hi! i’m cam! i wanna make more friends 🥺 👉🏻👈🏻

“you look like actual shit.” bestfriend!chenle snickers at you, a cheeky grin adorning his features as he pays close attention to the messy side bangs that fell into your face and uniform tie that was thrown on lopsidedly. you roll your eyes as he meets you on the sidewalk in front of your house, the same sidewalk you two had met each morning since second grade. chenle reaches out his hand and brushes your fallen locks behind your ears, chuckling at your irritated expression as you swat his hand away.

“well maybe if someone didn’t keep me up all night playing pubg, i would’ve woken up to my alarm.” you playfully side-eye him, knowing full well that your disheveled state was upon his insistence. flashbacks rang in your head from the night prior, a full seven hours of your life spent gaming that you’d never get back. considering you two would be uni students in just the next year, your sleep schedule was horrendous.

“we need to get more sleep than we do. you know that sleep deprivation is bad for adolescent brain development?” you nag.

“okay, okay. mom.” chenle disregards your light scolding, draping his arm over your shoulders nonchalantly. chenle was naturally a touchy person, even when you guys were little, so you were used to everything at this point— the hand-holding, the back-hugging, the general invasion of space when it came to him. admittedly, you weren’t the biggest fan of skinship, but zhong chenle was always an exception. he did it so often that people thought you two dated (not that you minded).

“your brain is so underdeveloped because you never sleep.” you tease, and he immediately feigns an overdramatic look of hurt, pushing you away from him. you beamed at his comical response. his orange locks radiated in the early morning light, and the up-turned corners of his lips stretch into a shit-eating grin.

“say that to me the next time you ask for calculus help, dipshit.” he mocks, and you stand on your tip-toes to ruffle up his hair, messing up the tangerine coloured locks (although he managed to still look good).

chenle sticks his tongue out at you, putting his arm back on your shoulder the way it was before. you were all smiles at his affectionate nature. a comfortable ambience fell over the two of you, as you basked in the undisturbed sunrise and yielded to the peaceful routine of walking to school.

“so have you asked bora to be your prom date, yet?” you inquired your best friend. jang bora was a good friend of yours both since elementary.

“it’s only the first day of senior year, it’s too early to ask her. what about you? find anyone you’d wanna go with?”

“no, not really. maybe i’ll just go alone.” you complained, scratching the back of your head. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but nobody in particular really caught your eye.

“c’mon, don’t be like that. i know so many guys who would love to be your date, y/n.” chenle leaned in a little closer to whisper in your ears, “and i heard a rumour that park jisung wants to ask you.” he teases you with his gummy grin, a sparkle in his eye meant only for you.

“i don’t think so, chenle.” you shake off his mischievous laughter, holding back a smile of your own. “i think he’s more interested in you than me.” you add subconsciously.

“hey, if it makes you feel any better, you can be my date if bora rejects me. deal?”

“wow, chenle, i just love being your second choice.” you sardonically joke.

it was early autumn, and the typically mediocre scenery of your neighborhood seemed almost picturesque today. the muted orange hues of the fallen leaves perfectly complimented chenle’s bright ginger hair, a byproduct of some mindless bet he lost during summer. you swore that orange hair would look revolting on anyone; but he was zhong chenle, and zhong chenle looked good in everything. you still recalled the self-satisfied cackles chenle made at your widened eyes, because what the hell, chenle? how do you look that good with orange hair?

morning walks with chenle were always a safe haven for you two. all pressures to be considered ‘popular’ or ‘cool’ were reserved for the rest of the day, with other schoolmates and friends, but never with eachother. you liked starting your days off with him, opting to simply enjoy eachother’s presence rather than bombarding eachother with too much talk and mental stimulation at such an early hour. it was in these moments that you two could be at peace with yourselves.

you sigh in contentment at the foreign breeze, recognizing the first sign of autumn. to you, the messy escapades of summer— driving around in chenle’s car during the ungodliest of hours, blasting 80s rock music with the windows down so that the wind would seep into your hair— these events seemed so distant and long-gone. an image of two teenagers huddled haphazardly under a thick blanket, a twitch streamer on the laptop being the only source of light, chewing on shitty leftover pizza as you two struggled to stay awake—these were memories of a hazy dream you’d try so hard to remember. recollections of sandy flip-flops, overly competitive volleyball games, and cloud-watching at the beach, with chenle’s orange head in your lap as he dreamt lazily, airpods in his ears and sunscreen on his nose. these all were snapshots frozen in time. a time that felt lightyears away from the present, a time you’d try so hard to hold onto.

because now, it was the first day of senior year, and everything would be changing. the hustle and bustle of ap classes, sports games, student council, part-time jobs, and the pretense of a social life always kept both you and chenle on your feet. nothing would ever be the same in a few months, as the never-ending questions about university would loom over everyone, the topics of scholarships and SATs and moving away constantly being thrown around. it was all so overwhelming, so burdensome. one thing you knew for sure, though, was that your friendship with chenle wouldn’t falter, and you found solace in that alone.

you were zhong chenle’s best friend since second grade — he was intelligent, charismatic, well-rounded, and widely popular towards the entirety of the school. he assumed the role of student council treasurer, the soccer team’s infamous right midfielder, and subject to much talk amongst the females in your highschool. but with you, he was just zhong chenle, the sweet boy who moved in two doors down from you when you were 9. there was no facade your eyes couldn’t see past.

“hey, y/n?” chenle begins, and you glance up at him next to you, peering through your eyelashes. “can i ask you, like, a serious question?” you nod at your best friend, caught off gaurd by the sudden question.

“does the future ever scare you?” he ponders nervously. you pause in your steps, thinking of the right words to say. chenle looks at his feet, avoiding your eye contact.

“well, whether we like it or not, the future is going to happen, right? and i don’t think there’s any point in fearing the inevitable. the best we can do is try adjust to the changes and enjoy the ride.” you admit, honestly. and if you were anyone else, chenle might’ve laughed at the cheesy answer, might’ve made a joke about how you made everything too serious and tried to lighten the situation. but it was you, and he could trust you with anything.

“but y/n. everything is going to change in a few months. there’s final exams, graduation, and prom. but after that, it’s all just a jumble of ambiguous what-ifs. nothing is assured anymore. i never told you this, but i might have to move away for my soccer scholarship. i’ve never lived away from home and i don’t... i don’t think i can handle it. it’s too much all at once.”

his sudden rant of emotion was laced with anxiety and stress. you instinctively take his larger hand into yours, feeling how shaky and clammy they had become. you knew it took a lot out of him to finally admit those words to you.

“i know how you feel, chenle. but you’re strong. you’ve handled everything life has thrown at you, every single time. you can handle this, too.”

“but— but what if i never come back? the thought of losing everything and everyone scares me, so much.... i can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

his anxious words drifted into the autumn wind, ringing through your mind like a mantra. zhong chenle constantly tried so hard to be perceived as perfect and flawless to the whole world, that sometimes it was shocking when he let his walls come down to you. you don’t respond at first, not sure what to say to his vulnerable confession; so you don’t respond immediately, and instead, you took his face into your hands and stared him in the eyes, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin. you hold out your arms and wrap them around his taller frame, saying nothing for a few moments. you two were silent during this intimate time. when you pulled back, his surprised eyes were filled with tears.

“i know you, zhong chenle. you will get through this. and plus, i’ll never leave your side. it’s always going to be you and me, ok? wherever you go.” you assure him, beaming optimistically. and you meant every word.

he blinked away the tears and laughed, “thank you, y/n, for being my best friend. thank you for staying with me all these years... i love you.” his words left you taken aback. in all your years of friendship, chenle never told you he loved you. you wiped his tears away with your sleeve and laughed at his sad expression.

“awww, i love you too, you dummy. you know that right? now stop crying, you look like a baby.”

chenle snakes his arms around your waist and pinches your sides, sending a tickle jolting up your body. you slap his forearm as he chortles jubilantly in response.

“ow! nevermind, i take it back. i totally hate you.” you mock.

(you love him. very, very much).

he holds your hand all the way to school, and you know that wherever life brought you two in the following months, despite the anxious discussions on university and scholarships and moving away, zhong chenle would always be yours.

#nct drabbles #nct writing #nct writers #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream fluff #nct dream chenle #zhong chenle #nct chenle #nct chenle fluff #nct fluff #nct fanfiction #nct chenle fanfiction #nct dream imagines #nct dream blurbs #nct blurbs #nct drram drabbles #nct imagines

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personinneedofmusic · 4 years

Text

We need to have this conversation

I want to start off by saying that, while I was reading the petition, from the time, I was worried. I was concerned about the procedures and the operations required to be able to complete this. That's aside from the fact: how are we going to establish this law unanimously across 50 states and the FUNDING holy shit! We trying to defund the police but when you wanna bring this in "Fuggett uh bowit"!

Try to imagine how to explain all that in a petition. How would it look? You'd lose the message. This is not a Bill or an Act. This is the way citizens make Congress pay attention to our needs to pass those laws.

Let's forget about the single incident that brought this link in our hands. You says "you don't believe such measures are required". Why is that? When we have a current law enforcement system set in place for a set of local organizations to uphold and enforce laws that we have all agreed to pass through our constitution. But the law is not being upheld fairly (and "fairly" is an understatement).

Justice is not being equally distributed across our land. Just because our system is not functioning as intended does not permit the allowance of it to continue. Let's bring a better solution not just talk down and reject ANY suggestion. For anyone who talks so much about trying to improve the problems we face, whether it be a fat guy going to the gym or the office job with shitty employees, what are these complainers doing to make the situation better? Absolutely nothing.

Let's go back, though to the George Floyd video. Anyone would agree that those cops had no reason to pin this man down the way they did. Anyone watching would of loved to shoot those bastards and you're right they did not carry firearms so a standoff would of worked against the officers. But like you stated in your opinion about this petition, this is unreasonable. To have all citizens in America carry a firearm is wishful thinking. It is not and has not been a easy thing to possess (I'm not talking about purchasing the firearm that's a whole other story. I'm referring to maintaining dominion). Look at the news articles reporting underage children killing themselves or killing others because these children got their hands on their guardians weapons. This was one of the biggest reasons for the school mass shootings we were experiencing everyday in 2019. The first 60 days of that year had more shootings than days. I remember seeing it on the news. Now checking, The Gun Violence Archive organization has recorded 417 mass shootings all over the U.S. in 2019.

People want want to stick to their statement that everyone should be strapped up? This includes children and students? Going to work or going to school, nobody should be forced to have to know how to operate or shoot a firearm. It's fun AF but it is not and should not be an all-time waking moment requirement, I'll tell you why.

This is a country of consumption and entertainment not a military state, we are not the middle east for christ sakes we've only had one war on this land and that was caused by the same bigotry and inequality we see today. That's the point of this being a free country, we have systems set in place to have to regulate the violence that's the direction that the people have chosen. Both the government and citizens don't agree with carrying guns everywhere they go.

Evidence of this is seen by big data companies and major organizations shoving advertisements of products, films, food, services but not guns not weapons. I'm not talking shit about guns cause I feel we all need one and I fully support the 2nd amendment. But carrying a firearm does NOT mean they decrease the chances of danger and for SURE do not eliminate it. I'll explain shortly.

Angel was right, anyone trying to forcefully stop these prejudice assholes know their lives are in danger when all they were expected to do that day was go to the liquor store lol (No one owes you shit) You or I cannot expect anyone to step in to interrupt such a cruel act because we all know the outcome. This ain't talking about "what ifs" we know it would take dozens of unarmed people swarming those cops just to save that one life. I can't speak about the "what if" of creating a stand off against those cops because we do not live in that reality. In this dilemma, in the real world we live in I can say that my heart would break watching this in person and I may act irrationally by attempting to forcefully remove them from George's neck and almost certainly get killed in the process. But I would rather die than allow others to continue to watch and act out a murder. "treat others the way you would like to be treated."

If you received news that your loved one was murdered for a courageous and illogical act, you would only have your "what if he had a firearm" statement and it would do you no good. "Legally a cop can't shoot you if you stop being a lethal threat... Many terrorists do that so they don't get shot" -_- A terrorist is considered a threat to the sovereignty of our home country. We are not the same threat. The fact that you bring that into the conversation is irrelevant because we're speaking about unarmed black civilians who are murdered in cold blood while they beg for their life.

The courts rule in favor of their law enforcement officers and white privileged citizens against minorities and please don't make me research this for you because this should be common knowledge. Once you can accept this common knowledge I can continue to tell you. Rioters fuck up the community, the stores even other people as we've seen in this last month. To the viewer of the organized media (narrow truth) it is narrated that this is hurting the message of the peaceful protesters. Just like every other person stuck at home you believe peaceful protesting is the way to get your voice heard because it's so amazing in getting the job done. Do you know how many peaceful protests have walked down the streets of our country for the killings and unjust verdicts slammed on our brothers and sisters since the 60's? Hundreds recorded and non recorded with absolutely no change.

Martin Luther King Jr. made the following statement: Riots are the language of the unheard. This is not a new statement, therefore not a new perspective, how can I verify this is not a new perspective? Because he stated this before his death in 1968. Who killed him? The CIA. The exact people who you just claimed have the jurisdiction to enforce the law/ protect its people against breaking the law and causing violence. What violence did MLK bring? Please tell me. I'll wait a thousand years for this answer and never get it. So why did they kill him?... Think about it.

The United States government killed Malcolm X because he was an obvious violent threat for his belief to overthrow their racial OPPRESSORS. The generational descendants of the people in power were slave owners and they are making sure they remain in power while the people under this federal system continue to build their wealth.

They ensure that these same "citizens" fight the wars against anyone who does not comply with their wishes. The murderous capital knows no bounds from extending their arms to developing defenseless countries (like Britain from 1400's to 1800's) to its own "citizens" it claims to protect. They see it easier to attack and influence small countries and if they had the chance they will overthrow another country they see as a competitor. But when you pay attention to how they attack the people who threaten their livelihood you will realize this is not for the greater good of the country. This is only serving the needs of greed from the wealthy politicians and business who profit from the dismantling and manipulation of others. ( I digress)

Let's go back to the U.S. in the 60's. They killed Malcolm & Martin to kill positive leaders who inspired self development. They symbolized the future of a race that was self-sufficient so this government that you've served saw it in their right to cut that class of minority's resources and leave people feeling lost & dependant. Apparently the department of self defense has also defended the previous verdict of the CIA killing MLK saying that there wasn't enough evidence in 2000. On paper they are not repsonsible for his murder, but logically speaking, the judicial system could not be forced to make such a monumental mistake in citing themselves as guilty. You can't just believe what others tell you, you need to dig deep and search for the truth.

Have you heard of what happened in 1920's the city called Tulsa?

Rioters have no other option to bring justice so they fuck shit up and will always continue to do so as long as we are oppressed and not treated fairly by our own so called brothers & sisters. Whether you are religious or not, look at the evidence and you will see we are all from the same family tree. So, how would you be able to claim to run a just country while it's representatives constantly put down and prosecute the disenfranchised who already have nothing and continue to take and take from them? Every bit of success or progress is highly praised within our community’s poor kids but women and men of color still experience prejudice & racism on all levels of our society.

What happened to LaVena Johnson (read up please)?

Watching someone drown is one fucked up immoral thing to do, but to purposely hold them down to watch the last bubble of air leave their lungs, it's beyond twisted. It's not just dispicable it is systematic corruption. So to say there are a "few bad apples" is not just wrong. Not just a few bad apples... watching all local law enforcements and national guard being deployed spray tear gas and shoot NON VIOLENT PROTESTORS in the face with rubber bullets (some dying from these so called "non-lethal" methods), this is a muthafuckkin INFESTATION BRUH! You don't see it?! That's called privilege. Because they haven't shined their spotlight on you don't mean you ain't subject to these methods of punishment.

These riots are not sprouting out of the blue just because they felt like it. Rodney King was not the only time between then and now that we had killings and beatings of unarmed minorities.Knowing our history is the reason for the hatred of our federal government (Govern = Control -/- Ment = Mind)

Our mind controllers have been doing a fine job at keeping us asleep for long periods of time, but when you threaten our basic civil rights we can't allow them to continue for the love of our children... for a better world.

I personally cannot loot. And I laughed when a looter was being dragged across the pavement from being stuck under the Semi truck they were trying to rob. Because looting is for the desperate. But focus on why they are desperate. Do you think you'll see rich people looting? You think these people are poor only because they spend money on alcohol? It's because the resources to become richer are made out of reach. Then we have these stock market bubble crashes that not only make people want to commit suicide from being systematically robbed but they widen the gap between poverty and wealth. The rich are not losing, they winning during every period of despair caused within this monopoly game and not sharing. They stock up and keep their resources away from everyone and get fat. Trust me dude, “when these fat muthafukkers get heavy enough, the ground of the people they walk on gonna open up and the hungry gon' EAT!”

You mention that these store owners may become depressed to commit suicide or become a shooter. That's a pretty big "what if" dude, and your whole essay was created based off the fact that you hate "what ifs". Based off my actual experience from speaking to the bankrupt, these people look for another way, they don't lose their composure and take their anger out on others. They could be turned to crime like drug dealing or other illegal services. But that's not because of the looters and rioters, that's specifically because their country's economic system has failed them. Everyone stuck in poverty is just trying to make ends meet.

The right thing like you say is the best procedure where no one gets hurt. But desperacy and greed is a bitch. It's a human element we all possess from top to bottom. Your short story of a sad business owner is heartbreaking but does not apply to every person.

So you agree an officer should be properly equipped to handle a dangerous situation as peacefully as possible. But we have CONSTANT monthly evidence of this not being executed correctly (correctly is an understatement). The petition doesn't even talk about changing police officers physical real world training. It's simply pushing for a Psychological evaluation of the people who have a deadly weapon in their fucking hands. SWAT team killed 7 year old Aiyana Jones performing a Flashbang while she was asleep bro! Where was the value of life? Where the fuck was the rationality? Where the fuck is the justice? Check on her killers and you'll see they're still walking "free" on this land. Flashbangs were made for wartime raids. I know you and I can both agree that this career will break your spirit. But these stories are beyond fucked up. Which is why we need to check on these people and maybe even get them the help they need. We don't know yet cause we're just trying to bring this shit to conversation.

You may feel personally attacked by this request because this may include your career, but we have a secret group of officers called the grim reapers (roughtly 2000 members) mainly white supremacists who KNOW the law they KNOW how to hide from the light so a social media evaluation aint SHIT on the people who could exercise their 1st amendment but against biased, racist and lethal internal terrorist is taking power AWAY from them. Tell me, where are these detectives that you speak of to prosecute these hate groups? "What sounds good to them"? These suggestions are not random dawg. Where is your solution?

If you followed your own advice to educate yourself you'll see throughout history the oppressors have brutally forced their way into a community and into another person's personal property for their own taking. These same oppressors now follow the same procedures to hold the highest power of dominance under this stolen land.

The "why the rules for law enforcement are set in place" is because they are ENFORCING their power over the masses. They created the monsters that you're scared of in the prison cells. These people (remember, these are fucking people) are compressed and compressed with hate, bigotry and systematic abuse throughout bloodlines. Stop looking at this from an individual perspective and within one generation. This has been specified abuse and re-designed slavery for generations almost 500 years now. Slavery has not ended homie. You & I are forced into it when we are forced to comply with actions against our health or will.

No, the law is NOT black & white. Because it should be the people who run the body of the system who decide what right and wrong is and perspectives change over time. Slavery used to be right. Public lynching or beheading throughout history was a public activity. So law is grey and the way we use law to seek justice is grey. That's why we symbolize Lady Justice to be blind. Because we begin our search for truth in square 1/ zero evidence. We gather our verdict, our decision of right and what is true from the evidence provided or there the lack of. What I was telling Will yesterday about "perceived truth" is that it is not to be confused with total reality. Truth is defined as- in accordance with fact or reality. But reality is PERCEIVED through the eyes of the beholder. "Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence". That's the grey area. That's why Jerome gets a different sentence compared to Chad: same age, same crime, same points, same judge, same courtroom even on the same goddamn day. Just because you have not experienced this horrendous atrocity of having your life threatened by an ominous hierarchy, does not mean it does not exist. It for sure does not mean you should leave it alone just because it's already in place and it seems to be working. It's not working, that's why we are trying anything we can think of to make a change and stop the menacing slaughtering of a certain people.

This is discouraging to see every bit of progress being undermined and pushed back. This is why people say their vote doesn't count and ignore politics, but that's exactly what the wealthy want you to believe. We are the masses not the minorities. The illusion of power is theirs. The real power is ours and we've just been tricked to hand our ability over to the money hungry power hungry FEW! Many different countries attach the representation of law enforcement as pigs. You ever wonder why they all have similar analysis? The characteristics of swine are they are consistently eating and eating without even thinking despite their great intelligence.

Law enforcement has been consistently eating more salary and more power gaining more rights over people and you think this kind of person should not be required to have an Associates degree. You know elementary school teachers are required to have a bachelors degree (4 years of college). I'm not even gonna ask you and give you the chance to ponder whether or not a kids school teacher should have a higher education than the officer who can carry a deadly weapon and interact with full grown adults from all walks of life and still get paid SHIT compared to them. That's not right, sir. And if you don't believe that's fucked up, I now know you prefer to be in a militant state and not a free state. Abuse of power is not within a few, it is within the very core of every powerful government.

Cali gaining more gun laws is still only directing the narrative to the scenery where people all agreed to carry firearms... Again, we do not live in that reality.

Peep this action. When someone hates & dislikes someone or something, you'll notice that these are products of misunderstanding.

There has not been sufficient compromise from the law for a comfortable life because these same issues lawmakers and congress have promised to look into and consider have been thrown in the backburner to suffocate just like the lives of the innocent our so called heroes have taken.

So, I know I mentioned defunding would be difficult to do if we continue with this but I am for defunding the police. Not abolishing but re-allocating their funds. One great way is removing the pension plan to those many fuckers who have a trackrecord of violence on the clock especially the murderers. You want more details about what qualifies or disqualifies someone to receive pension? I could continue but because I'm not a legislator and we're just speaking of a petition, I feel like it's a waste of time right now. Let's see this pass and then we'll dive in.

Defunding does not mean that we're creating an anarchist state. This does mean our heroes will be left on the streets. We can optimize the funds if necessary, but we can't allow the department of self defense to take so much away while it's own people are starving and living in motels or on the brink of losing their homes. This bullshit of lack of healthcare insurance coverage is a whole completely different ball game but also affects poverty and could also use assistance not in providing the government coverage but (for example) regulating these private physicians and hospitals on how they charge different prices for mediations or services in different countries.

Other services that drastically need that re-allocation funding (not overfunding past the law enforcement, remember that): Public housing, mental health services, public education & department of unemployment. Cutting after school programs and defunding your society's children is detrimental to our future and we've been allowing that (not just to continue) to progress for years. We are currently in a crisis of unemployment not caused by a typical economic downturn but nevertheless we've had problems within this public service for years that needs reform in it's method to assist people with finding a job like creating relations with employers for different job classes.

Sarcastically suggesting to fund the weed program because you can't think of any other programs that desperately need reform just shows your disconnect with our society. This is a direct statement to you but this is not a personal attack to you, I just want you to understand that there are many problems that need fixing and throwing money at it is not the solution. That goes for any of the public or federal departments that I've mentioned in this message.

The exponentially growing debt is NOT going to its citizens. Going back to the main topic, we as a body of people are not equipped with the right resources to equally seek liberty and pursuit of happiness. Also, we cannot fully blame anyone else for the decisions we make ourselves so don't expect people to be panhandling. We all just want an equal shot.

Taxes- Are a financial charge or levy imposed by a governmental organization in order to fund government spending and various public expenditures. This means that the people are constantly being depended on to increase the salary of every government funded worker and it's supplies and other expenses to supposedly run properly. But throwing MORE money at something is not going to always fix a problem. As a country that has always found the need to be in debt and constantly spend on the wrong things this is my reason for validating that we need to re-allocate from dangerous or unnecessary spending.

People have argued that the standard technique to privatization will incur by: first defunding, then MAKING sure the facilities will not work which make the people even more angry until those facilities are shifted to the private capital. That's how we began seeing charter schools. You can't feed or educate the people of this country properly and the house of administration wants to defund NASA unless we all agree to work towards building a space station. get THAT shit out of here. The heirs of the Trump family were just recently cited to use taxpayer dollars to fund a trip to another country for a hunting game against the largest sheep in the world (reminds me of the novel, The Most Dangerous Game ;-) hunting their own supporters). TAX PAYER money, for fun! Defund whatever the FUCK they think they can do with our money. The department of defense claims it knows what's best for another country and so it decides to train that other country's military in an act of diplomacy in hopes to gain a new ally and drain that other country of its resources. Put THAT country in debt so that they help this country with it's spending problem. (This happened multiple times) Get THAT FUCKIN SHIT out of here. Then the U.S wanna act surprised when the threatened country starts to shove the U.S. away when they begin digging their finger in their ass and so we (yes, we. You and I allow this) attack them while creating a narrative here at home that they are savages with no organized government and therefore a broken community with immoral culture (sounds like a male's narrow perspective here in the states that gets butt hurt when they get rejected by a fine ass hyna "fuck you! Slut! You dirty ho". You know there are connotations of this). But the most dangerous areas with these so-called immoral cultures are claimed to be the countries we are at war with. And that does not always mean our home's narrative is accurate. So stop looking to the taxpayer again to bail out the wall street corps and lawmakers who want to infiltrate a new country for its dependence on us. Fix THAT trillions of dollars of spending and we don't have to increase taxes.

People want to have so much faith in the judicial system of this country saying all will be resolved with jury and judges. Do yourself a favor and read up on George Stinney and then Breonna Taylor. Then let me know what kind of rationality you create for that.

QR Codes? I'll admit this had me chuckle. I don't carry a QR scanner on me but I think it's creative and smart to have a bargaining chip you're willing to lose in this conversation.

I feel I have already addressed all bullet points previously mentioned in your response, but one more thing about the re-hire: You can't be serious to think that the main focus of a rehire banning will significantly attack those heroic officers who willingly quit. This petition is specifically calling out for the group of officers who abused their power and had to be fired. Some departments will silently suggest to those officers to quit voluntarily after their post verdict of an abuse of power. But that's another loophole that we need to address possibly in another petition or when this one is passed.

You stated "we can't cookie cutter it, people are all different...". I agree with you. If certain states have a law where an officer can be fired simply because "their captain does not like them", that sounds like another piece of bullshit that deserves a different petition to gain attention. But you fail to acknowledge the cookie cut systematic oppression. El Che (Simón Bolívar) & Pancho Villas did not rise to power for rebellion against a fair system or just for the fuck of it. Neither are we and we're not even as radical. We're still civil. No longer asking, demanding equal rights still after centuries of racial violence.

You may be completely okay with a few bad doctors, lawyers, pilots or cops because it's minuscule to associate them with the term "bad apples". But these are not just only a few bad apples that create a little bit of a sad story here in America. You can't condone an attempt to pass legislation for a petition based on too many "what ifs". But that little girl has to grow up without a father now. Your abundance of what if's are leaving her with the most traumatizing “what if's” at an early age as well as others in all communities for the colored. What if George wasn't murdered? What if he was just tried and sent to years (I don’t doubt they would of found a way to make it years) of incarceration still unable to raise his child for passing an illegal tender that HE WAS NOT GIVEN THE RIGHT TO A FAIR TRIAL FOR? So to this day remains innocent based on the views of this judicial system. And now what if this same system will eradicate this little girl's life? I will not ask you if a human's life is worth less than the security of our fellow "heroes" because it is not. They took an oath to protect and serve, and all they've been protecting and serving is the interest of the wealthy. The wealthy made from the base of the citizens, the taxpayers so we are the hand that feeds them. And they are threatening us.

#empathy #loveovereverything #racialinjustice #inequality #racist #overcome #history #society #oppression #equality #Justice #the constitution #pursuitofhappiness #onelove #thehateyougive #makelovenotwar #nojusticenopeace #saytheirnames #remember their names

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samethstarr · 4 years

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Getting it together!

Something has come up that I feel a need to address out loud and has been weighing extremely heavy on me the last week or so. TLDR: I am dropping projects and commitments because I can’t manage grief in a healthy way. But I am ok. But damn.

tw for medical stuff, blood, depression, and weird metaphors.

I don’t remember this, but 8 years ago I enrolled myself in art school and moved to the city. Some time during my first semester, I got severely ill with a nerve problem. I lost the ability to use my hands, or even walk. Naturally, it is hard to do art school when you can’t hold a pencil, so I dropped out.

I thought I had gotten over it, but the recent push to improve my art has reminded me that I used to be really ambitious about it. I kinda resent that I lost that opportunity, even though it was never in my control. My therapist has told me multiple times that I need to stop with the art stuff and maybe find a new hobby that doesn’t trigger my emotions as much. Frustrating as hell. I am trying really hard, just a tough barrier to break through. “What ifs” aren’t real and I need to stop sitting on them. Imaginary things make shitty chairs.

Other stuff too:

December 10th I received the new that they would be stopping any further medical probing, I am beyond current medicine. While I have been able to walk unassisted for over a year now, and I am getting more steady at drawing, my medical condition has always been looming in the background. I am able to stay awake for a full day only with the aid of medication. My liver sometimes hurts for no reason. I still occasionally have issues eating.

I thought I was managing pretty well, keeping up my commitments with a smile, looking on the bright side, setting goals.

But really I was shoving my emotional baggage in the corner and painting a wholesome smile on it.

A pile of things has led me to crash, and the tipping point was a few days ago when I woke up covered in my own blood realized how sick I am of seeing it. Random intestinal bleeds, medical tests, IVs gone wrong, my teeth breaking from my jaw clenching, the dark bruises on my legs, the infections, the organ swelling. The reminder of how fragile I can be.

But all this forced positivity has stopped me from really examining the reality of the situation, and it has prevented my from doing something really important.

I haven’t given myself the chance to mourn the person I wanted to be. My illness killed them and I can’t keep hauling their corpse around, they are kinda bloated and smell funny. Reality is reality. There are some things out of my reach and I need to stop telling myself that smiles and sunshine is what I need to get past this.

I didn’t just want to be an artist. I wanted to be a carpenter, I wanted to be a firefighter, I wanted go on hikes on all the beautiful trails. I wanted to go to conventions around the world. I wanted people to be inspired by me. Some of these are still possible, of course, but some aren’t realistic anymore and I need to let go.

Anyway, depressing stuff aside. I need to focus on moving on in a healthy manner now, addressing the issue head on. I have dropped most of my commitments at this point, including a lot of my volunteer duties and projects. I am no longer taking art commissions. I have deactivated some of my social media accounts. I am putting comic production aside for now, I have decided to limit my projects to a single long term personal project, which will be my fan fiction, Threadbound. I will likely pick up “My Onion” again after things stabilize, I am too far into the planning to just drop it and I am really enthusiastic about it.

My primary focus for now is me, and I am only sharing myself if I get something wholesome out of it. I am not sacrificing any more for anyone. I am going to get my house cleaned up. I am starting up with a fitness coach soon. Maybe I should get an unexpectedly wild haircut? I am hoping this all will reduce the amount of stress I feel and make my life a little bit happier for me. A real, healthy positive energy flow will do me a lot of good.

And even though I have given up a lot of stuff in a short amount of time, I am proud of what I have done and what I have learned and I am happy to have met all the people I have met. None of it was a waste.

#tw: blood #tw: medical #tw: hospital #blood #medical #hospital #vent #Giving the link to this to some people to better explain why I am suddenly ending commitments #I am not suicidal #Just need to get focused

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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COTW 15 - update

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pernatius · 5 years

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Sober Corner

My oxygen is fading. My hope is depleting. My home is becoming smaller the farther I drift. I reach out towards the stars above. I have struggled. I have tried paddling forward, but it proves worthless. As my strength isn’t strong enough to overpower the pull. But at least my memories can play back to me. My mind uses it as a way to coax with my coming death. I remember playing tag when I was young, it was my favorite game. Oh, high school too. Man, I hated it. Too many sleepless nights studying. Ha, yeah those were the days. Why did I have to go on this mission? Why did I thought I’d be some sort of hero? Why did I think I’d redeem myself? I guess I thought being famous, one of the first people to lay foot on Mars, would somehow fix the pain I caused for others. But, as always, I have messed up. This time I can’t get out. It was my fault for believing I was superman. Who thought I was fast enough to fix the engine while an asteroid was speeding towards me. I’m too cocky. I’m too arrogant. I haven’t changed. I haven’t grown up at all.The crew probably are on Mars by now, basking in their glory, while I suffer through this slow death.

I can see a red light blinking in my peripherals. I have minutes until my existence ends. Until I leave without making things right. I’ll never get to say my goodbyes. Oh god, now the water works are coming. The tears flow down my cheeks.

During my last year of high school, I dated someone. She wasn’t the type who everyone wanted to date, yet it’s not like no one did. When I knew her hair was always in a bun. Her clothes were always baggy. Not the skinniest build, yet not overweight either. Fairly average. Though, she’s very smart. One of the smartest in class. Someone who I could compete with. I suppose I just saw her as a rival rather than a lover. Maybe that’s why I cheated on her. I just didn’t feel satisfied. It still doesn’t excuse the pain I caused her. I deserved her ignoring and her brothers pummeling me to the ground the day she found out. But most of all, I deserved the disappointed expression on her face right after she slapped me. College, that’s another story. I cheated, no surprise there, on my final because I didn’t get the chance to study. No, I just was too tired after wanting to win a game tournament. I forgot the title of the game, but I lost in the semifinals anyways. That’s two thousand dollars and a week’s worth of sleep lost. I was kicked out of the college when my professor saw me using my phone. Well, she found out I plagiarized as well during my meeting with the dean. So that’s another reason why I deserved to get that permanent disgrace upon my name. God, I’m such a failure it was basically a free ride. When my parents found out they were really pissed. “You’re such a smart kid,” they said, “Yet you never think ahead.” And at that they slammed the door and kicked me out. I worked at a local fast food joint after and was soon annoyed with customers and a shitty manager. I quit after a couple of weeks. Man, I became desperate for money. So I asked my younger brother who willingly gave me part of his paychecks. That kid was so naive. I took advantage of him and when he found out I was taking more than half he shut me out too. I haven’t seen that guy in months. I haven’t even seen my parents in half a year.

So how did I get here? How did a deadbeat like myself end up in space? I was desperate more than I was before. I was going to become evicted in days. I was crying on my disheveled floor, hoping for another stroke of luck to get me out of this situation. I was tempted to end it all right there. I got a knife from the kitchen and aimed it towards my chest. Before I was able to puncture my skin, as I quietly sobbed, a knock on the door disrupted my mood. I then dragged my feet towards my door and opened it. Where I grabbed the envelopes, shifting and groaning with each one I skimmed through. Just overdue payments until my eyes widened and I saw an ad to become a space explorer. Without thinking, I rushed down the stairs towards the address because when I saw the amount of zeros I didn’t think otherwise. It was when I completed their tests and signed the papers my journey towards death began. I was a fool to think I would ever accomplish anything. If only I can burn my high school diploma and tell my past self to just end it way before I fucked up my whole life.

I was so caught up in the dream. I’m never in reality. They warned me of the what ifs. My monitor warned me of the incoming asteroid. But all I did was stare into it, freezing up, while my crew did nothing. They hated me as much as everyone else in my life. Rightfully so, as I would say rude things. I even annoyingly flirted with one of my fellow crew members. I even, stupidly, ate half of our food supplies. Hell, it was my fault I needed to fix the engine. I was the one that crashed us into an asteroid. Thus, destroying the engine. I wanted to prove I was someone. But all it lead to is my loneliness. I am going to die alone. I will always be a nobody. So I’m sorry I was such a failure. I’m sorry I didn’t realize the pain I caused until now. Or how much of an asshole I am. Thank You for trying to put up with me. Goodbye. End of log entry.

#sober corner #spilled ink #32 #short story #fiction

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littleaprilcherryblossom · 2 years

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I really hate the feeling of being negative (on this blog and in general) but nobody wants to listen to me irl so this is like my only way to kind of put it out and let off some steam in a way. Feel freento ignore, you won't be the first nor the last.

First of all I hate misunderstandings so much and I hate when someone puts me under pressure and I H A T E when smth is forced upon me I litterally hate this so much and the fact that I it happens makes me mad but I am even more mad at myself for not speaking up about it. Also when you're surrounded by ppl who are indifferent to what you say or do doesn't help at all either when you're trying to express smth.

And the fact one person I am close to has the audacity to tell me that it's my fault I'm always tired and then procedes to mock me when I say I can't think propperly and form propper sentences today ??? But the fact this person would never never NEVER accept it if I ever talk to them like this and would even call me disrespectful, unpolite and say I should be ashamed of myself.. the freakin' irony of this situation is too much for me to handle.

Also it's not like I'm not trying I am just lost and I don't have the propper tooks to grow out of this shitty situation. I just don't know how to do it on my own and that's smth they can't understand. Neither if them. I get so overwhelmed by the strong contrast between what I am told to do, people expect from me, and what I really want to do/need that it gets so hard to go through a day nowadays. I feel like I lose a piece of myself everyday. How can I possibly balance both out any longer when there is a hurricane of torment, anxiety and insecurity blowing inside my head. How do you expect me to do what you ask of me when I cry in my bowl of cereal in the morning before leaving the house ?

There are so many times I felt like everything was too much to handle and I did not want to do it but did it anyways because of the the expectations have of me, because my position requires me to, or politeness requires that I do so or or or.... so many ifs so many buts I have to fight against, all alone but the longer I do it, the more difficult it gets. Difficult to get things done, difficult to push through when you're going against the current of your feelings, difficult to pretend you are fine when you're not. I can't do this anymore and more importantly I don't want to continue this way.

Stress takes over me more and more often these days and I find myself thinking that it would be nice to not exist anymore like becoming a cat or a rock of just plain dust would solve everything and I would finally stop worrying about everything and just start to be.

From now on I want to be a rock and I shall become one.

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breathofjasmine · 3 years

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It’s Thursday.

I once decided to treat Thursday as my no structure day. I can do whatever I want without a to-do list. I can rest or bake or do things that I deprive myself of doing during the week. However, this Thursday is different.

In my road to mental recovery, you will experience roadblocks, even dead ends. I tried using this Tumblr to further feel my wins by typing my realizations on a mere post. However, as positive as it may sound, I still feel like shit. I do.

I looked through my recovery posts, and it sounds so optimistic it is slowly turning into something toxic. I always search for positive notes on some bad situations. I want to sound grateful, to treat every moment mindfully, to be happy. However, I noticed that you could feel negative and shitty and pretty fucked up and accept that there is no positive feeling at the moment.

I am always tied up in the notion of “be positive” or “if you don’t think positive, it is your fault.” What will I do with negative emotions then? Should I place it in a closet till overly occupied that I manifest into something else?

I am just lost and confused and still hoping. I still fucking hope. I am full of regrets and what-ifs, and I should have that I do not know anymore. I am avoiding people, isolating myself from their expectations, negative thoughts. So negative that I tried muting it, translating it into positive thinking. No doubt. It is still not working. A friend asked me If I am okay, and I do not know what to say. Should I tell her the truth or no? I should not tell her the truth. I am okay. Yes, I am okay. I do not want to bother her. I just finished the show. Wait. Yeah. It gives me high school feelings of love and giddy, but what now? I want to watch something good and great, and I do not have anything. An anonymous person just asked me to send nudes. I do not anymore, but thanks for the question. I do not have the body that I once had. Should I skip meals? Should I only drink water? Why do I write these posts as if someone is reading them? As if I expected someone to read it? What is wrong with me? Why are my hopes just so far up that I cannot even reach them? I should stop and not do anything, or should I do something to preoccupy my mind. What should I do next? Read a book. Five minutes in, I cannot concentrate. Wait, I cannot breathe. Should I loosen my bra? Should I not lay down after eating? I feel like I need to drink meds for my stomach. There is just too much, too much that I cannot even handle.

But, hey! It’s Thursday. I can also feel whatever I want for today. However, I always promised myself to pick myself up no matter how difficult it may be.

#reminder

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nekodracones · 4 years

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Gauntlet: Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don’t

Alternatively titled: Concrete Reasons to Hate Gauntlet that Also Make Me Want To Quit The Game.

I’m starting this post 5 days past after when I had originally intended to post this. Typically one might say that no one needed to know this unnecessary info, except I can probably relate the procrastination directly to my disengagement with the game this past week, which is definitively directly linked to the unhappiness of my teammates during Gauntlet, as we each tried to hit our higher-than-normal personal prize tiers. Also, while I stoned like a shitty teammate in WD this week, I played Call of Duty Mobile and it’s actually a decent game that rewards my grinder tendencies, so I’ve been occupied with that.

I should make it clear that while this, being the shittiest discount-period PvP possible, made it a particularly shitty Gauntlet to have to grind out, my points stand for any Gauntlet, in general. Gauntlet being the discount PvP simply highlighted it’s most hateful facets and drove me to analyse where and how exactly this event went all wrong.

...---...

FOUNDATIONAL PROBLEMS

1. Too little opportunity for teams to differentiate themselves by consistent activity- and possible activity is limited.

In higher leagues, many teams have most if not all of their PvE islands on cool down at any given time. Some larger islands even see people setting timers for their appearance, just so that they can get in hits before said islands disappear. The rest of the time, everyone just waits for PvP islands to appear once every 3h. This means that differentiating one’s team from the competition falls to PvPs, which come with their own slew of negative implications.

2. PvP and PvE islands die too quickly and regenerate too slowly.

This week, I watched my teammates congratulate each other for getting hits in on Gustav island. The typical teammate would only get in one hit, and then have to wait another 4h for the largest PvE island to reappear. In the meanwhile, they would hit the other islands, and at multiple instances this event, we’d have all the islands in cooldown...at the same time, leaving us with nothing to hit.

Current island health seems like it was balanced for supers, not megas. When islands appear once every 4h only to disappear after 3 minutes, this seems poorly designed. It should not be possible for no islands to be open at any one time.

3. The first few islands are worth fewer points for each attack for no reason.

For most players in Sapphire and Diamond, all the PvE islands are equal in difficulty. Not only is it unnecessary to force us to all spend energy and inner fires at suboptimal rates at early parts of the event, it also creates competition for the PvE islands with better value, and elicits unnecessary consideration of the conundrum ‘Do I kill earlier islands at terrible rates to contribute to team points, or focus on getting personal points for better value by waiting for larger islands to reset?’ I don’t think it’s fair to force people into having to consider the value of personal progress against helping their team; isn’t the point of a team-based game to incentivise teamwork?

4. PvE is meaningless and unsatisfying.

PvE bases have low point value and take precious time to grind, but are also unchallenging and boring. This isn’t to say that I think making them challenging will fix this, but rather that their point value should be increased and the work needed to get those points decreased, with, say, a raid button, instead of wasting our time.

5. 70% is a win.

Unless every single base on a team is a maxed base, most bases optimised for strength, under level 550 hit 70% at an earlier point as compared to bases optimised for a longer time needed to reach 70% completion, which are often weaker. This places forces players to choose between having a strong base, or a long base. With a single defensive base design meta and the latter being generally detrimental with it’s only benefit being a longer completion time, should it be an encouraged base design?

Should sudden spikes in performance be rewarded over constant high performance? Does the ability to have a fraction of the team complete bases to 70% a few seconds faster really determine a superior team?

...---...

IMPLICATIONS

1. The deciding moments of Gauntlet occur in literal seconds.

As pointed out, the deciding moments of Gauntlet are the PvPs. Between two competent teams who spend enough megas to finish off a PvP island in one wave, the difference between a loss and a win is very often mere seconds. This is bad for multiple reasons.

First and foremost, 2 minutes (or less!) of PvP every 3h is both too draining over 4 days and too insignificant to excite and satisfy when it happens. Additionally, any internet connection problems or PG server glitches, which are common, within those two minutes can cost your team the entire PvP. Finally, it’s idiotic that these few seconds to 70% matter far more than the hours of grinding a team does on PvE islands. All in all, flying a base a few seconds faster comes down less to skill and more to fortune, which makes it a very idiotic metric to determine whether a team should be winning the entire event.

PvP rounds should be decided by some other metric other than completion time.

2. Longer bases > Stronger bases.

This is an unfortunate meta that has been becoming more and more prevalent in recent times. It rewards the wrong things- logically, shouldn’t planning ahead and building strong towers be encouraged? Farms give an unequal % of base completion as compared to actual damaging towers of the same or higher level, as they have higher HP. As most bases have no hope of stopping recent dragons stronger than their towers, if said base isn’t endgame, it’s ideal that a base backload a larger comparative percentage of HP with it’s farms by having lower level, and hence a lower HP kill island ahead of the farms. Rewarding poor base building not optimised for damage tower strength seems bad.

Somewhat tangentially, shorter bases are preferentially attacked over longer bases in order for teams to win PvPs. Sacrificing points and risks taken on larger bases just because they take too long to complete devalues defenders and makes PvPs a pure speed race instead of valuing skilled flying.

Stronger bases should be rewarded instead of bases that take longer to complete simply because their HP was backloaded.

3. Defence is undervalued.

Say you shut down an attack on your team’s PvP island before 70%, sacrificing the opportunity cost of being able to launch your own attack on the enemy team and having it land, helping your team complete the PvP island faster, potentially winning the round. However, while your defence may screw that one attacker, the next enemy hit to land will probably finish off the island, so multiple defenders are needed to make a noticeable dent in the enemy wave. Additionally, defences are unrewarded in the PvP, your attacker only needs to kill 70% of the defended base with three dragons; in the case of a failure will likely still score a percentage of points from their unsuccessful attack, and also have the choice to receive an energy refund if they drag out their attack for long enough. Also you’ve probably spent a bunch of hammers and boosts.

Defence should be rewarded more strongly in PvPs, as dragons and bases are two sides of the same coin (and people tend to spend more on bases than dragons, as a rule)

4. If your team isn’t competing for points, your team isn’t good. If your team is competing for points, your teammates are selfish.

Obviously, while this statement, while echoed in the sentiments of many players, may be logically untrue, the reality is that individual sandbagging is rewarded in this event. In a less competitive team with fewer competitive teammates, players are able to access and earn more high-value personal points with less stress and time management. This is bad; isn’t the point of a team-based game to encourage teamwork?

One might argue that such sandbaggers would miss out on team prizes, but the fact remains that personal points are easier and less stressful to earn on shittier teams, and that alone makes the sacrifice worth it for some. Team strife is never fun to have to deal with; some may feel any animosity unintentionally caused by competition with teammates for high-value points is undesirable and wish to avoid such a situation.

More points should be made available to decrease the scarcity of points and hence intra-team competition for points.

5. PG isn’t maximising profits from this event.

By creating a PvP where some point sources are more valuable than others, PG has artificially caused some to believe that it’s not worth it to push for higher personal prize tiers if their teammates are constantly causing said point sources to be unavailable. This may cause some to spend less PvP resources than they might have otherwise, since they may think it’s ‘not worth it’. PG isn’t very good at this comparative pricing thing!

The value of certain point sources should be increased relative to each other.

...---...

CONCLUSION

Gauntlet is a pretty terrible PvP as is. Most of it’s problems arise from it’s not providing enough comparatively high-value point sources; I’d like to posit that island HP were never adjusted appropriately after the introduction of megas.

(Megas are a fine high-value introduction to the game; if I had a gripe about them it’d be that IF costs were never adjusted after the energy pack discounts, and 20 IFs to launch one is far too expensive for how ubiquitous and necessary megas are in more competitive leagues now. This is probably another post, though.)

Where PvP islands used to take 10+ minutes to be cleared with supers; now they’re cleared in a single wave. If you’re not clearing your PvP islands within 2 minutes, you’ve probably lost that wave, too. This is obviously bad.

I’m not asking that island HP be adjusted accordingly, or for PvP islands to spawn more frequently, since this would only increase the necessity for megas in this PvP and exhaust team resources more rapidly, but the PvP should be adjusted for their addition to the game.

A few suggestions:

1. PvE islands should have shorter regeneration times in general.

2. PvE islands can have shorter regeneration times based on how rapidly they’re cleared by the team, since PvE island clearing speed can be a fair indicator of the activity of the team, and hence their greater need for point targets. Obviously, this also gives greater advantage to teams with generally higher team activity, since they can kill the same island more times than a less active team that clears islands more slowly. Maybe a point multiplier to be applied on team/personal points based on how many times each island is cleared?

3. Point value of each attack on the smaller PvE islands should be increased to be more in line with the point values that larger PvE islands provide.

4. Install raid button for PvE attacks. I’m tired of Krelos being used as an excuse for going half-lazy. Always go full-lazy. #RaidButton2k20

5. No points awarded below 70%; instead, a full energy refund is provided. This point is controversial; in higher leagues this would punish players legitimately trying bases outside of their expected ‘ez point’ range. At the same time, others disagree that people should get ‘free tries’ on enemy bases until they get it down, since it further devalues defenders.

6. 70%ing a base still remains a win; but no points are awarded until farms and mills are killed. Most bases have their farms and mills behind all their defensive towers, this solution ensures that no one needs to adjust their base so they’re not 70%ed until later into their base. At the same time, higher level bases remain advantaged as it would take longer to clear/skip islands before the farms, to kill them. However, this also punishes players hitting above their weight class, and puts a defensive focus on defending farms.

7. Reward defenders by awarding points for dragons shot down; scaled according to dragon DP as compared to base tower level. Or something.

8. Let all attacks started against PvP islands land, and have bonus hits that land after the enemy island is killed earn bonus team points, with a significant multiplier. This is good as it rewards teams that have more attackers online and ready to go for their higher blanket activity, instead of just the speed of their fastest attackers.

Mainly, I’d just like this event to not punish active teams for their activity. It’s tiring to have to entertain thoughts of leaving for a smaller team every time this event runs. My team’s really nice, so it’s actually a pretty serious internal debate. #ChronicSandbaggerCat

#catpost #opinion #maingame #teamgauntlet #PvP

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xflower-childx · 4 years

Audio

You can’t have the Rainbow without the Rain

It's funny because when I share the adventures from this past week everyone assumes I'm in such a bad headspace and that I'm so torn down by it, when honestly I feel such a weight lifted. Yes it's been stressful, and I've had a few breakdowns but honestly... I'm happy and God I've felt so much more free this week and I can breathe. L brought me more stress than comfort. I was always on edge and feared my words, actions, and future when it came to living with her. I always felt this form of spite from her, but after talking with my boss she thinks it came from jealousy, which makes me laugh because I can't see why someone could be jealous of me. I mean... I'm an incredibly broke bitch just trying to get through life. Thinking on it more though I can see it in a way, from messages I've gotten from her to her all around attitude. She never left the house for her, she only left for her parents, the grocery store, or a fucked up ex or two she never cut off. She only ever moped around, rarely did her stay at home job, and took all of her dad's money. She never cared about herself and was more negative than I was in Middle school. Which says A LOT. I would always invite her out on my hikes, runs to town, or even outings with friends and she would say no with some negative comment about herself or say 'Daddy needs me to go run to this, this and that store and mom needs her Taco Bell and I just hurt so bad and my head is pounding and I feel like ass'. I would ask why her father couldn't do his own errands (which honestly... he NEVER did but also he's working to provide for him, his wife and their 35 year old CHILD after triple bypass surgery) and she would make some comment about how they won't always be around and she has to help them, but honestly... If she ran errands for them she could buy for herself as well.

I hate to sit here and speak so negatively of her but I know she did the same while kicking me out. Two wrongs don't make a right of course but... I dunno M&M has agreed that she lost her fucking mind this past week especially and it probably was part of changing up her meds which of course she has a million medications so it wouldn't surprise me. I had suggested she goes to a therapist which she nearly did but always blamed it on the VA and them not calling her or something along those lines. There was always an excuse though. For everything.

I remember having so many talks with her about trying to do better and actually care about herself and her future. She would make these baby steps forward and be so close to doing something good for herself but then she would have a night terror, headache, bad thought or text from her toxic boy toy and then it would be ten steps backwards straight to crying in bed. It was such heavy negative energy my empathetic ass was draining close to empty all the time. I would encourage us to eat something good, healthy, and filling and even make it but then she would order Papa John's with 'Daddys' money.

I know I have a bad habit of wanting to 'Fix' people but I just don't like seeing the people I care about hurting. I hate knowing that they can do such simple small things things to help make a big impact in their life and mental health but just won't do it and say they can't. I am always happy to help encourage them and I'm all about being the hype girl for my tribe. I'm all for bringing out the best in them and watching them succeed and sharing how proud I am of them. It brings me such Joy because seeing them being proud of themselves is the greatest. I feel it for them... And when L felt it for herself It made me the happiest because I also felt all her self hate. I remember my first months there confusing her self hatred for my own. It was this odd feeling because I felt like I had moved past that point within myself. The point of literally hating every aspect of myself from looks to personality. It didn't make sense because I do see the beauty in myself at this point and I see the good I bring. So for me to have mistaken the opposite of everything I had worked so hard to improve for my own it had really brought me down and confused me. Of course I took myself to the mountains at that point and did some reflection and worked on figuring out where my head was and why it was diving into such a dark place again. It worked and I realized I didn't have these issues of self loathing with myself, it was me sucking in all of L's negativity and taking it as my own. This also started to happen more and more. Thankfully I had figured it out and worked on blocking it out by creating a force field around myself so it wouldn't be so bad. This ended up creating a lot of trips to the mountains and staying in my room more than being social with her which I never want for my living arrangement.

I love NC, I'm incredibly happy with the place I am at with myself and how I've fought to get where I am. I know I have more growing to do, and more to learn but ultimately I'm happy and I don't really care to allow any negativity to ruin that. I know that when L first told me to leave she wanted me to fight back and beg to stay but I'm sick of begging for basic love and care from people, so I accepted it because I didn't deserve the way she handled everything and I knew I needed to get out of a toxic situation for my own health.

So where does that leave me now? Well currently I’m stalling on writing a letter to L to maybe help band aid some of the crazy drama as I can’t leave the friendship we had be completely destroyed. I’m with M&M and I have been slowly moving stuff downtown to my new place with a really cool new roommate who is the complete opposite of L which truly excites me, shes super low maintenance and the house is close if not over 100 years old. Its also painted rainbow colors and in the heart of downtown. I see a new chapter and I’m so open and ready for it. I see new friends and new experiences, Maybe even some traveling? I do have my mind still set on going to Asheville but I’m not rushing that just yet. Ideally by the end of the year, but January is only just coming to a close so we still have some time there. Also I”m still so open to anywhere else time takes me. Asheville is just a place to help me remember not to stay in WS,

I also wouldn’t mind opening up the dating door more. It’s been open of course but I also know this move could make meeting people easier in a sense. There is a guy who I’ve discovered having quite a bit in common with and we have enjoyed talking to each other and when we finally met up things went pretty well, a little awkward because that’s just how I am, but well... Until L showed up and wouldn’t shut up and then also the whole kicking out happened and my communication with everyone kinda fell to even more shitty than it typically is.

I just know that I do kinda want someone, someone to do something but also nothing with, someone to cheer each other on, and travel about. I want a person but I also want a person that wants me. I am perfectly content in my own space and prefer it most of the time, but I do want to share existence with someone and I don’t close anyone off, and maybe my friend D isn’t that person (Even though we share a lot of the same goals, music, and views) but the thought excites me again, being wanted and cared for, especially being that I kinda know how to be wanted and cared for in a sense.

Before I wrap this up though I wanted to share final thoughts with an R update for myself. I sort of feel hypocritical with the way I speak of L and her relationship with Florida dude. Granted he is far more toxic than I feel R could ever be in my case but I put that on us having a genuine relationship at one point. I did reach out when I had hit a wall this week and no, I don’t regret it, I just needed a friend, someone who I felt didn’t think I was terrible and could provide a song or two to help pull me out of wanting to just throw in the towel and leave the state. Did he provide that? Eh, not really. I feel if he wanted to be there for me more he would have been. I gave conversation and he didn’t really give back, which is fine of course as he is perfectly allowed to not be in my life if he doesn’t care to be. I honestly felt the same when Lil pup was super sick. He could have been there, but he chose not to be.

I know that I always had this silly little thought that maybe someday it would be us but with each failed text conversation I see that image break and break along with every realization of his lack of want to keep me in his life in anyway. Of course its my own silly stupidity to think that we could ever be endgame or friends or even acquaintances, but its always so hard to let go of something you cherish so much. I know that people leave your life and you just have to let them, but maybe its that I always wanted someone to want me in this way so its hard to let go, which is almost funny because he never even had this kind of want for me. I don’t really want to let go but I know I have to for someone to want me in the way I want to be wanted and needed. I also know that I do think about him, our time and stupid ‘what ifs’ more than I should because again, I see no future there when the other half of this duo doesn’t either.

These thoughts will fade with time of course and when someone truly steps up to love me the way I deserve, to travel, cook, and do everything and nothing with me. To see how rare I am and appreciate having me around the way he didn’t. This person will fight to be in my life the way I fought for someone who doesn’t want me in there’s, except I will accept their love and make sure they know I want it so they won’t have to fight so hard.

I know I miss him, or more of who we were when we were on top of the world in the boring state of Florida. I don’t really remember that all anymore though and I will continue to remember less and less of the good, which sucks because it appears only the bad will continue to remain sadly with no good left in its wake. I tried. I really did. I had hoped we could see and be on top of the world at some point but I know that’s another silly thought. If I have learned anything from all the drama this past week it’s that you can’t make people care if they don’t want to.You’ll just hurt yourself trying. I’m just exhausted at this point.

So I hope he is happy. I really do. I hope he’s happy where he is at physically and mentally. I hope he is finally a lot more comfortable in his own skin, which I know everyday is different and I don’t think he will ever be perfectly happy within himself in that way but I hope he has more good days than bad. I hope he finally allows himself to love again, and I hope she is nice, pretty, and is good. No more fake toxic bitches, but he has a taste so... Who knows. Either way, I hope he will finally love himself enough to share his love, because I know he has fantastic love to give.

Two days later and this is finally written, at least most of it. I need to get more writing out but I better write L that letter before I talk myself out of it. I’m kind of over being the good adult here but thankfully her drama is over... For now at least. I’m scared to see what shit she will say back after. Also bitch took my avocado container and ice pack >.>

Alright but here we go 2020. The year of growing in the kitchen, traveling not just the US but also internationally, moving out of WS, learning to rock climb, maybe finding some love? No rush with that as it shouldn’t be, but I’m very open to it :) BUT it’s the year of good. I’m still happy, positive, and here. It’ll be a good year!

#My writing #jan2020 #stubborn smile #mihali #2020

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

COTW - 15 - we never speak of this chapter again

Resting his forehead against the toilet, Eren was praying for some peace. He may have slight found he'd forgotten to take his antibiotics since coming, and was now wondering if the fact he felt so sick was because of it, and not just everything happening with pup and the trial. Levi had called out softly to him when he'd left for work, then a few moments later, Eren had found himself on the bathroom floor, throwing up until his stomach physically hurt from the tightening of his muscles. When he'd felt around his bathroom drawer, instead of finding his anti-nausea pills, he'd found his antibiotics. Since Viren had grown, and his curiosity had grown, they'd had to find toddler proof ways to keep his medication out the boy's hands. He hadn't thought Levi would place his medication in there, though it was the only drawer in the whole bathroom that "locked", thanks to the tiny lock Levi had installed himself. The key kept under Levi's things in his drawer. Dry swallowing his antibiotics had only made him feel worse, and having not slept the night before left him not only feeling gross, but gross and sleepy, with the gross making the sleepy impossible. He had to testify. Levi scent had been so agitated, it'd been like his alpha wasn't on suppressants, and even if not directed at him, his omega had gone into meltdown mode, taking his stomach with it. He didn't want to testify. He didn't want to put the pups in danger, and he didn't like the fact that his stomach was flaring with pain over his distress. It meant he needed to monitor himself in case of a bleed, then potentially another trip to hospital. Hospital. He loathed the place, yet now he was also stuck wondering if Mike knew Erwin had been called to testify. He didn't understand why he would be. They could have asked him about the note. They could have asked him about his time with Zeke, Reiner and Bertholdt. They were probably going to anyway... He already knew the moment he took the stand, he'd be judged for his swollen belly and secondary dynamic. He could probably wear the nicest and richest clothes in the world, but no one would see them. Fuck. He didn't want to remember. If he asked Krista, she'd probably let him listen to their sessions about what happened. Things he felt couldn't repeat were recorded. Things like signing were taped with a camera for Levi to watch at a later date. That was the system that worked best for him. He could get it all out, and if the time came when he was finally able to confront it, he could sit down with Levi and they could confront it together. It still blew his mind that he could have such a kind and caring alpha, who really did seem to want the best for him. Even when his world was turned upside down and everything felt like a dream. It was like the book he'd started reading to Viren, "Alice in Wonderland", where nothing was as it seemed. He wouldn't be surprised to see a hookah smoking caterpillar, or to stumble out one morning to find Titan smoking a hookah, while dishing out words of advice that left his head muddled. What a joke. Who would have thought the kid who'd lost his mum at 10, was found and betrayed by his brother, then nearly wound up dead more than once, would still be paying for that day all those years ago... it all started then, so why couldn't it have all ended there too? Fuck. Every choice his made played on a loop. All the what-ifs made it hard to feel alive. It was like the very thing that made him him, was being snuffed out from the inside out. He just wanted it done. He just wanted to be free, and those he loved to live long happy lives. * Erwin was waiting for him when Levi marched into work. The man didn't even see it coming as Levi swung for his nose, staggering back, Erwin looked stunned. Around them, their coworkers at the depot stilled. Snarling, Levi bared his teeth. Wiping at his dripping nose, Erwin opened his mouth, but Levi wasn't having it. Eren had wanted to punch Erwin and that blow had been for him "How the fuck could you!? November! You've fucking known since November! You fucking knew they wanted to put him on the stand and you said nothing! Is this some kind of fucking joke to you?! This is my fucking family!" "Levi! What is going on here?!" Some little shit had run to their boss, the woman standing there, looking just as shocked as Erwin had "This piece of shit is trying to get my omega, and our children killed" "I think you two should come to my office" Her voice was soft and calm, trying to defuse the situation. Never in his life had Levi ever felt so betrayed "I have nothing to say to him" Actually, he just didn't want to listen to Erwin's voice "Levi, you need to understand..." "No, Erwin. You need to understand. Eren was in hospital with complications from his pregnancy and an infection. One pup has an SCT, that needs monitoring. They've already scared the fuck out of him, shoving ideas of abortion down his throat because he's an omega. He gets out of hospital, then Floch decides to show up, demanding Eren testifies... and then, we find out that you've known for months! He already lost one pup. Do you want him to miscarry? Is that it? He's at home, terrified about how this is going to affect Viren! He was talking about dying! You never said a single thing. Not once" "Floch contacted me just after Eren miscarried. He said he was going to contact you, and I told him to wait. The timing wasn't right" Levi scoffed openly "And what about after that. All those lectures and shit moods of yours" "At the time you were both grieving" "Of course we were fucking grieving! Our relationship was on the rocks and Eren was so sure that I was going to leave him, he was going to down abortion pills and tell me nothing about it! But you know what, we started getting through it, and you still kept your mouth shut. You had so many chances. I have never, ever, been as disappointed in you as I am now" Standing there with her arms crossed, his boss was staring right at him "Levi, please. I really think this isn't a conversation you should be having in front of everyone" He'd forgotten he had an audience, though most of them had scuttled off like scared mice. Running his hand through his hair, he took a breath to calm himself "You're probably right" "That's better. Now, both of you, in my office. Smith, is it broken?" Erwin shook his head "No" "Good. Get cleaned up. I did not need this today" Sitting in his bosses office, the woman started before Erwin joined them "I hear you have a lot going on" "Just a little" "Care to shed some light on the matter for me?" "Not particularly" "Too bad. Now, what is this?" "Erwin dislikes Eren" "That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking why it was bad enough for you to hit your coworker" He felt like a kid. A snot nosed brat sitting in the principals office, without the sobbing or the racing heart. Just the disappointment "Eren went through some stuff a little nearly four years ago. It wasn't great, and we both nearly died because of it. We're still working through the pup having an SCT, when all this had been brought up again" "This stuff, you mean the attempt on both your lives by Reiner Braun. You don't need to sugar coat it" "That was part of it. Eren was involved in the destruction of a baby farm. A lot of shitstains were thrown in prison for it, and now one of them has decided to cry wolf. Even with the complications from his pregnancy, depression, anxieties, and health issues, they still want him to testify. Erwin knew, and didn't bother to fucking tell us. Floch was too spineless to give us a heads up. Now the only chance I have to keep him off the stand is the report from his specialist over the pup, but we both know that won't amount to much given how badly they want him on the stand" His boss sighed, leaving back in her chair "And here you thought you'd be enjoying quiet family time" "I fuck-..." Knocking on the door, Erwin let himself in. His nose padded. At least it was still bleeding "Erwin, take a seat" As Erwin moved to do so, Levi moved his own seat away from the man "Now. I've heard both sides of this argument. Erwin do you wish to press charges against Levi?" "No" "Excellent. I still need to write this up. Levi, I can't suspend you, nor give you time off right now. The best I can give you is split shifts until you leave. I may be able to give you some leeway with Eren's specialist appointment, but finding your replacement has been quite the challenge. Given the issue, I feel separating you both is in the best interest of both of you. Erwin, you'll partner with Ginn. Levi, you and Schultz will supervise the three on placement here. Guys. I know you're better than this, but you both need to think about the example this sets for the others" Levi nodded, while Erwin sighed. He had no right to chuck the shits. He was the one who'd proven just how much of a lying wanker he was "Good. Now, Levi, do you need to call Eren? Is he expecting you home?" "No. He's expecting me to work" "He's a smart omega. I'm sure things will work out just fine. Now, I need a moment with Erwin" "Understood. Thank you" For some fucked up reason, Erwin thought it perfectly acceptable to call him, then start with a near constant barrage of texts, telling him to answer his phone. Each and every call went unanswered, the texts deleted and the man's number blocked. He didn't care if it was childish. He had responsibilities towards his boss, and the three idiots he was now baby-sittting. Still, it was worth it. Eren would scold him a little, but he'd understand why. It was a complete and total douche move that broke his trust and left him disgusted in Erwin. He'd been to Viren's birthday party. They'd worked together. They'd worked together on his birthday and New Years. He had weeks between Eren's partial miscarriage and Eren ending up in hospital to open his mouth and spit all this out. When one of the shitty students finally grew the balls to ask what had happened, Levi was more than happy to give them all a very thorough walk through of how to clean an ambulance properly, and how to ensure everything was restocked in the entirety... with zero regret. The more they grumbled, the more he pointed out their mistakes, remaking them do everything all over again from the start. It made for excellent therapy, leaving feeling mildly better as the night came to an end. Now all that was left was to go home to Eren, and Viren. Then to climb into bed, knowing Viren would come crawling into his bed for cuddles. * It was a few days after the Erwin incident when Eren came padding into their room. His mate wasn't in a great place mentally, he'd accidentally caused Eren to faint with fear. By simply coming home mid shift after forgetting some paperwork he'd brought home to finish. Looking up from the book he'd been reading, his omega was shirtless and pale "Levi, I don't feel good" Placing his book down, Levi made space at the edge of the bed. Eren must have been feeling like death warmed up as he waddled over, and sat beside him as if he'd forgotten he needed space "What's wrong?" "I feel hot" Raising his hand, Eren took it, placing it to his forehead "You feel clammy. Any nausea? Dizzy spells? Headaches? Or vomiting?" Vomiting could be stress, as could the clamminess "Vomiting... and I can't sleep" "When was the last time you slept?" Eren had to pause to think, shaking his head tiredly "When I fainted?" "Brat, that was two days ago. You need to be resting" Two days ago and he'd woken half an hour later "I can't sleep" Shifting further over, Levi pulled the blankets down "Come here" "What?" "Come here. You can't sleep because your mind is over active. You've hit over tired, and I won't have that. It's not healthy for you, or for the pups. Now. Come here" Sliding down, Levi patted the spot next to him "I don't think I can sleep..." "Then just lay down next to me and rest" "I might freak out" "And I'll be right here if that happens" Crawling into bed, Eren grunted as flopped down beside him, before scooting back into his hold. His head resting on Levi's arm, as he wriggled against him "Now close your eyes" "I can't" "You can. It's not hard" "I can't stop thinking" "Then think about me" "This is stupid" "It's not stupid. You're going to get some sleep, and then I'm going to make you something to eat. When did you last eat?" "I... everything I eat, I've been throwing up" "Have you been having shakes?" "They don't really stay down either..." "Ok. Sleep, then food. I start at 9 tomorrow, so we get an extra 2 hour sleep in" "Why 9?" "I'm supervising the students at the moment, and they have an exam in the morning" "What time does this exam start?" "7" "That's not humane" "They need to be able to cope with a lack of sleep" Eren sighed softly, his mate's breath tickling as goosebumps erupted along as his arm. In the silence of their room, the gurgle Eren's stomach gave brought a smile to his face. He wasn't necessarily laughing, but the sound had been completely unexpected. In his arms, Eren pushed himself out of his hold "Eren?" "I'm going to be sick" Doing a semi-shuffled run, Eren rushed from their room. Levi pushing back the covers completely, following his mate into the bathroom. Eren was kneeling in front of the toilet, dry heaving as nothing came up. Moving to sit behind him, Levi kissed Eren's shoulder as he rubbed his left arm, trying to offer a small measure of comfort "Eren, it's not healthy to be dry heaving like this. You're too exhausted to be trying to deal with this" Gagging and spitting, Eren's words fell between his mates desperate attempts to vomit "Tell that to my stomach" "Have you tried your pills?" "Threw 'em up" "Let me call Mike? See if he can give you a shot for the nausea and something to help you sleep?" "I don't want to go to hospital" "I'm not talking about taking you to hospital..." Though he was severely tempted to. Not sleeping and constant vomiting was no good for Eren, or the pups "... I was thinking I would explain your systems to him, and see if he can give you something to help" "I don't know... What if Erwin... well, you know..." "Mike is enough of a professional that he wouldn't allow it affect his work. Besides, I doubt he would approve of his husband's behaviour" "What if he comes with him?" "Then we let Mike in, and leave Erwin out in the hall" "He has keys" "The bolt can't be opened with keys..." Guiding Eren back from the toilet, his omega have a weary sigh "I'm so tired" "I can see that. Let me take care of it all, ok?" "I'm too tired to say no" Levi kissed Eren's clammy cheek "Good boy. I know you think you're going to be sick, but I doubt it. The only thing you're bringing up is spit and bile" "That's two things" "You know what I mean. Let's get you back to bed?" "I don't want to mess the bed up" "I can take a little mess" Like the putrid puddle Eren had left when he'd wound up in hospital... looping Eren's arm over his shoulder, his omega whined weakly as Levi started lifting him "I'm sorry" "You're ok. I'm here, and you're ok" "I just need to sleep" "I think we both agree on that. Why haven't you been sleeping when Viren is?" "I can't... I can't stop thinking" "That's never a safe thing" "You're an arsehole. Fuck... I'm tired" Did Eren not know he was repeating the question? Or was it for emphasis? Even if he'd asked, Eren would probably just blame it on his fatigue "You did the right thing coming to me" "I didn't want to disturb you, but I didn't know what to do, and I feel so messed up. I guess... I guess I really need a hug" "I will give you all the hugs you could ever want" "Ugh. I'm too tired to hit you" "If it'll make you feel better..." "Hugs are nicer. Even my omega's too exhausted for this shit" Not wanting to risk calling Mike and having Erwin answer, Levi sent their friend a text asking for help with Eren's lack of sleep and vomiting. By some minor miracle, Mike was awake, promising to come check in with Eren. Undoing the bolt and chain, Levi rejoined Eren in their bedroom. Sitting in his original position, he let his omega move his head to his lap, nuzzling into Levi's leg as he got comfortable "Mike said he'd come round" "I feel bad for disturbing him" "He's married to Erwin. He's disturbed enough" "I really didn't want you two to fight" "I know. But what he did was wrong. He needs to sit down and think about everything" "You make it sound like he's a three year old" "Viren has better manners than him. Have things be ok?" "He's going back to missing you all the time, and taking it out on me. If that's what you mean?" "Why didn't you tell me?" "Because he doesn't understand what he's doing is wrong... and I'm so tired, I don't know what to say or do anymore. Besides, I needed space. I still need space. I'm just..." "So tired you need a little help?" "That makes it sound like I'm using you" "No. I didn't mean it like that. I don't like you feelings sick, but I do like being there for you" Resting his hand on Eren's hair, he didn't know what else to say. His mate was adorable. Even when they weren't talking and had this stupid distance between them, he still loved his omega. There was so much for Eren to take in. Not only the trial, but the specialist appointment in a couple of days. Perhaps it was a blessing Eren was too tired to be thinking about it. Levi had done some more online research. With the wonders of modern medicine, the pup could be aborted without harming its twin. It could also be delivered ahead of time, though the survival odds were low "You're too much for me" "I wouldn't say that. I left the door unlocked for Mike" "I feel bad annoying him..." "All I did was ask if he could come 'round, he could have said no" "Mmm" Poked, prodded and injected, Eren was finally sleeping. Levi stroking his hair as he did, his mate finally looking relaxed and peaceful. Having brought their only dining chair in from the living area, Mike waited until Eren's was finally asleep before venturing into the Erwin matter. He'd avoided both the trial and the baby thing, while Eren was awake. Not that Eren was talking. He'd frozen when Mike walked into the room, and stayed silent right up until he fell asleep "Erwin didn't tell me he hadn't talked to you about the trial" "Aren't you two supposed to be married?" "So you knew?" "When he first brought it up, I agreed he should hold back from telling you, due to the miscarriage. What I didn't know was that he didn't talk to you about it after. Not until he came with a bruised face" "He deserved it" "I'm not saying he didn't. I assume this all came as a shock" Levi snorted "Yeah. A shock. You could say it like that. The night Eren gets out of hospital, Flock came right over and dropped all this shit in our lap. This is the most time we've spent together in the last week. He can't sleep and he keeps throwing everything up. Floch reckons he has to testify" "He's in no condition to testify" "Your opinion doesn't count. I'm hoping we can get a letter from the specialist about this. I've already told him I'll take him to whatever doctor or therapist they want us to see" "Does Floch know?" "He knows it's a high risk pregnancy, and it was clear from looking at Eren, that he can't cope with this right now. His nerves are shot to shit" "Floch never struck me as narrow minded" "Of course he's narrow minded, his head is firmly wedged up his arse" "Is that your medical opinion?" "This isn't the time for jokes" Mike shook his head "I suppose not. What can I do to help?" "This. Eren won't go back to hospital, unless it's kicking and screaming. He's been holed up in his room instead for the most part. He's been avoiding me, but he's too exhausted to fight right now. And if we can't keep him from testifying, it's going to be one hell of a fight" Mike paused, the man tugging on his jacket sleeves acting uncharacteristically nervous "I know you don't want to talk about it, but have you discussed..." "He's not having an abortion. He's already said as much" "He may not have a choice" "You're right. I don't want to talk about it" "Eren should be out for the next 10 to 12 hours. And you have work?" "I do... I'll have to take Viren in with me" "I can take him to Hanji's" "My shift's from 9 to 3" ""She starts at 1. And I'll be on already" "Who's looking after Anna?" "I'm not sure. She usually brings her here... I'm sure we can find a sitter at the hospital" "Eren would love that. Viren in hospital. He wouldn't even stop to hear why, before kicking up a storm" Thinking about it, a knowing smile formed on his lips "What's with the look?" "I was just thinking about how the idiots on placement haven't worked with children before. They've been into the field, but they've never had to handle children before. Let alone a cranky three year old" "Will your boss be ok with it?" "I'm in charge of their training. They need to learn that dealing with a child isn't like dealing with a small adult" "I'm glad you're not my boss" "Then it's a good thing I won't be there much longer" "I mentioned that to Erwin. Apparently it slipped your mind to tell him" "I have yet to tell anyone. Other than Eren and my boss. I asked her to keep it quite" "And you weren't going to tell him?" "It must have slipped my mind, like the trial slipped his" "I know you two have had your disagreements..." Levi let out a chuckle "You mean. You've seen how overbearing he's become to the point where he feels the need to continually insult my life choices and my mate? I appreciated everything he did for me, but I have never appreciated his words against Eren" "He really does worry for you. It has caused more than one fight between us" "It wasn't my intention" "No. No. It's not you. It's him. Erwin just has a hard time letting go" "Are things still going well between you two?" "Three. Eld is back in the equation" "I thought you two agreed to close the relationship" "We did. Until... You probably don't want to hear it" Levi stroked Eren's hair, tucking it back behind his ear. It was getting long again. Not that he was complaining. He loved running his fingers through Eren's long hair "I'm not going anywhere. Besides, it's the least I could do. You did drop everything to help Eren" "He's been a good influence on you. You've softened since meeting you" "Erwin doesn't agree" "Erwin is rather disagreeable" "Are you supposed to say that about your husband?" "Probably not. Things have been easier with Eld around, but it doesn't feel like a real relationship with the three of us. I don't know how they make it work. No matter what happens, someone's feelings are hurt, and someone feels left out. But the sex with Eld is great" "I didn't need to know that" "All I'm saying is, you and Eren are lucky to have each other. You've both been able to help each other through your issues" "I know. I never thought I'd have someone like him in my life" "I think that's why Erwin can't understand. Before you had Eren, you had Erwin. I think he felt that he'd forever be chasing your footsteps. He also doesn't understand the bond between an alpha and an omega" "I never asked him to. And there a plenty of nonalpha/omega relationships" "Yes, but the dynamic isn't the same" "No two relationships are. Eren thought we were over. He seriously thought I didn't love him, and that we were done. Now, when I ask him anything about the wedding, he says he doesn't want to get married. This trial is something we really didn't need" "He wants to marry you. He's wanted to marry you since you two first decided to be you two. You were so good to him. You took your time to talk to him, saw him as more than an omega. Eren trusts you to make the right decisions for him. He knows you have his best interests at heart, and even when he's pushing you away, he knows you'll do the right thing... Erwin... Sometimes I can't help wish that Erwin took a leaf from your book" "I wouldn't say that..." "You didn't. I'm saying... Actually, I don't quite know what I'm saying. I wish Erwin would open up and make an actual attempt with relationship" "You're making it sound like being married is the worst thing imaginable" Erwin and Mike had been so in love at their wedding. Both men soft and gentle as they spent their reception in a world of their own... It'd only been a few months since they'd wed. How could things have possibly gone to shit so fast? The Then again, the days had been moving impossibly fast with everything happening between him and Eren... when Eren wasn't keeping his distance that is "No. Not the worst thing. I think for Eren, it would be the best thing that ever happened to him. It would give him security for his future" "I know that. But I want to marry him, because he's my whole world. Not for stupid reasons like his dynamic" "Yet, if something was to happen to you, the government would probably seize your assets and prevent Eren from inheriting anything" "I don't plan on dying any time soon" "You know what I mean. A bond may mean something to us, but it means nothing to anyone with that much time on their hands" Honestly, Levi really knew nothing about how inheritances worked. When his uncle had died, it'd only been a few weeks, and a single meeting with the man's lawyer, before the funds left to him had been moved into his account. Eren's hadn't been quite that simple, as his father hadn't been dead... but they'd still payed out... after being shot, he'd made sure his will was updated. Everything he had would be left to Eren in the event something happened to him. If something happened to both of them, it'd go to Hanji. Any money from the sale of the apartment would go to her for the care of Viren, while their money would be held in trust until Viren turned 18 "You're a depressing arsehole, you know that, right?" "I didn't mean to be. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for my husband's actions" "You're not to blame. Erwin had plenty of time to do the right thing, instead he was insufferable at work. Constantly brooding and biting his tongue, I guess we all know why now" "Daddy?" Both Levi and Mike looked to the doorway, a very sleepy Viren was holding his teddy to his chest with one arm, while rubbing at his left eye with his free hand "Hey, baby. What are you doing out of bed?" Stumbling towards them. The boy's pyjamas pants were in danger of being pulled down each time he stepped on the hemming. Reaching Mike first, Mike went to help the boy, only for Viren to start getting grizzly "Viren, it's ok. It's just Uncle Mike. He came to take a look at mummy" "I want daddy" Looking down to his lap, he really didn't want to move Eren from his hold. His mate was hurting so badly that he was touch starved, he missed Eren's warmth "Viren, you need to sleep in your own bed tonight. Mummy's sick" "Mummy's always sick" Mike tried to calm the angry toddler "Viren. Your mum is having another two babies. You're going to be a big brother. He's not sick because he wants to be, it's because he's making your siblings" "I don't want them. I didn't do it" Pouting at them both, Levi sighed at his son "Viren, just for tonight. If you go back to bed, daddy will give you a super special treat in the morning" "I want to stay here!" "But then what am I going to do with that special treat? It'd be a shame if I couldn't give it to a good boy like you" "What kind of treat is it?" "A very special one" "Cooler than my bike?" "Nothing is cooler than your bike" Viren sighed "I miss my bike" Levi bit the inside of his cheek, trying to be a stern parent and failing just a little "If you go to bed right now, I promise I'll give you that treat when you wake up" Viren let out a very Eren huff, before nodding "Good boy. Now off to bed" Running out he room, Viren was forced to stop, pull his pants back up over his nappy, then continue running. The kid was an adorable mess "His words have gotten much better" "Yeah. I noticed that too. There's something's and gaps we still have to put together, but he can make his wants and needs known most of the time" "Well. I better head off too. If anything happens during the night, let me know. He should be fine. I would say bring him in... but we both know he doesn't want that" "Thank you. He really appreciates it, so do I" "You're both welcome. What's the point of friends if you can't message them in the middle of the night and drag them out of bed and away from their snoring partners. Make sure you get some sleep too, Levi" "Yeah. Late start, so I'll get a couple of hours in. Don't forget to lock the door on the way out" "Got it. Let me know how your students go with Viren. I don't know if they're going to find it much of a treat" "Hey. My son is delightful" Mike laughed softly "When he's not in a bad mood" "It almost sounds like you hope he will be" "Me. Never. Goodnight, Levi" Left alone with Eren again, Levi rearranged them so Eren was laying with his head on the alpha chest. His stomach is as propped up by Levi's hip, with one leg pulled across Levi's lap. Things shouldn't be so bad that they had to resort to drugs for his omega to sleep, but it was relieving to know Eren would finally get some real sleep, his mate was so soft and warm, Levi unable to stop from gently rubbing his mate's swell. Even if their second pup needed a little help, he was still so proud of them. Of both pups and Eren for carrying them... he was even a little annoyed that Eren was only half way through his pregnancy. He wanted to meet his two pups. He wanted to watch them grow and develop their own tiny personalities... and fuck, he really hoped they'd look like Eren. His mate was stunning, no matter what he thought. * Having left a note for Eren, explaining he'd be home around 3, he'd left breakfast for his mate. Levi would have liked to stay, but Viren woke up in a hyperactive mood. He'd been woken by the boy jumping on the bed, a little too close to Eren for Levi's liking. His mate hadn't moved at all, still curled into him as he snorted softly. Who would have thought snoring could be soft and adorable. Work with Viren had been an experience. His boss hadn't been impressed until he explained how those on placement hadn't had the chance to work with a child. The two female students that seemed to have a crush on him, had gotten over it when he'd made them clean. Within 10 minutes, Viren had them wrapped around his little finger, and he was back to being called a DILF while his partner was gossiped about non-stop. If Eren was up to it, he would have loved to have brought him in to work. He would have loved to show his omega off, and rub it in their faces that Eren was the only one he'd ever be interested in... aside from the fact he was gay and they'd never stood a chance. Viren played his part perfectly. He loved the attention. Each small trip or fall had then placement students gushing over him, giving them plenty of experience with a happy toddler, and a demon child. Eren was awake when they came home. For the first time in weeks, his fiancée was fluffing around in the kitchen. Titan sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter, watching the organised chaos caused by Eren's cooking. Giving them a small smile, Eren looked beautiful. Flour was dusted across his cheek, and down his shirt. His hair thrown up in a messy bun, but the smile was hypnotic "Hey... is he awake?" "No. He passed out in the car on the way home. I'll put him to bed then come help you" "I'm ok. I'm just making bread rolls. Take a shower" "I will, I just need to do something first" Laying Viren down in his bed, and making sure his teddy was in his hold, Levi then headed into the kitchen. Coming up behind Eren, he wrapped his arms around his mate's stomach, kissing his shoulder as he did "Is this ok? You smell sleepy, did you get enough sleep?" Eren turned enough to kiss the side of Levi's head, before going back to the dough he was working "Yeah, just don't make any sudden moves. I'm still a bit tired, so it's an early night for me tonight. I've already messaged Mike and thanked him" "What time did you wake up?" "Around 2. I haven't had a shower yet. I was going to leave the dough to rise while I did. Tell me about you day" "Viren went over well. He had them all under his control" "I bet he did. Your boss wasn't mad, was she?" "Not once I explained that I thought it would be a great learning experience. The students don't often get a chance to work with a child. Do you mind that I took him?" "No. He's definitely a daddy's boy. If he's stayed, he would have had to put up with me sleeping" Rolling the dough into two seperate balls, Eren split them, placing them in two bowls then into the oven. Levi shuffling around, not ready to let his mate go yet "Now to let them poof up. I thought you were going for a shower" "I am. Like I said, I had something to do first and it was hugging you" "You're lucky I'm drugged" "I thought you might be feeling better..." "I am. Thank you. I'm sorry I came climbing into your bed like that" "Eren, it's our bed. And I am more than happy to have you climbing into our bed" "I was feeling so sick that if you'd offered me a cardboard box, I probably would have climbed into their" "Then I'd just have to bring that box home, and give you bath" Eren shook his head, his fiancée moving to turn completely towards him "I would kill for a bath" "Then why don't you take one? I'm home. I can watch Viren" "It seems like too much effort, and the hot water would probably just make me feel sick" "Have you been eating and drinking?" "I had a shake. I was planning on having an early dinner" "Do you want to come take a shower with me?" "I'm sorry. I'm not up for it yet" Levi leaned up, kissing Eren on the cheek "It's ok. I just thought you might... never mind" His face must have betrayed his disappointment. Standing in their kitchen, Eren was looking down to him so lovingly... he'd thought that maybe Eren would let him in a little, now that he was physically feeling better "Lee. I'm not saying I'm never going to shower with you again. I'm still try to work through my thoughts about testifying" "You don't have to" "We don't know that for sure. I was hoping we could talk about it" "Are you sure you want to? Your specialist appointment is coming up, and you don't need the extra stress" "It's because it's coming up that I need to have all the information I can... each day, it's coming closer. I don't suppose you've heard from Floch?" "No. As far as I'm concerned, the ball's in his court. I told him we'd see any one he wanted us to, for a second opinion" "I know. I was there" "I know you were. I don't plan on doing anything at all without talking to you about it first. If you want to take a shower first, I don't mind waiting... I don't mind waiting for you. I'll wait as long as you need me to" "I know you will. I'm sorry I'm taking this so badly" "I don't think you're taking it as badly as you could have" "I feel like crap about it all" "I wish you didn't" "Go take a shower. I'm making homemade burgers for dinner. I'll make you extra for work" "You're too good to me" "Lee, I love you. And baking taking my mind off things..." "Oh. So I'm a distraction?" "Yeah. But the best kind of distraction. I just hope..." Eren bit his lip and gave a shake of his head "No. What were you going to say?" "It's lame" "Tell me anyway" "I. Uh. I hope the buns turn out as nice as your buns. It's stupid. I'm going back to dinner" "You like my buns?" "Not if you're going to be like this" "You think I have a nice arse?" "No. You're an arsehole" Despite the pout on Eren's lips, he could the tips tugging as the omega tried not to smile "You like my booty?" Doing a little butt shake finally pushed Eren over the edge. His omega letting out a laugh "Don't ever say booty again" "I won't if you admit you like my arse" "Fine. I admit it. It's a great arse, connected to an even greater arse. Now get out of the kitchen" "That was too easy" "It was either that or you saying booty again" "You love my gluteus maximus" "I will kick your gluteus maximus if you don't start moving. And when are getting a new dining table set, or at least chairs?" "If we only have one chair, that means you have to sit in my lap" "I don't like eating while sitting on the sofa, unless it's with Viren. I don't like the crumbs" "Which means you should just sit in my lap" Shaking his head, Eren walked away. Levi had gone too far with his joking again. Grabbing the dishcloth, Eren sighed heavily "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be sensitive about it. Can you give me a few minute?" "Of course. I'm sorry for pushing" "No. You shouldn't have to be sorry. I think I'm going to take another nap once the bench dries, and the rolls are done. I'm too tired and my omega is playing up again" It was times like this that Levi loathed Eren's omega side. His mate's omega should know by now that he was in a safe place and anything that Eren told him would never change the feelings he had for them. He knew Eren struggled with accepting his secondary dynamic, which meant a part of him wondered if this was revenge by his omega from not embracing his dynamic fully. Anything and everything Eren could ever want, he'd give freely and completely. His reward and greatest happiness came in a form of a blinding smile and the purest of joy that would radiate from his mate. It was like a drug, and he was hopelessly addicted "I can finish up here. You should rest" "I'll do it. All I've done is sleep" "Because you needed it. You still look exhausted. Beautiful, but exhausted" "If I take a nap, will you wake me in an hour?" Nope. He'd leave him to sleep "I can do that" "Lee. I don't want to sleep too much and not be able to sleep tonight" That really wasn't going to be an issue, he could tell just by looking at Eren "I know. How about I check in on you? If you're too tired to get up, I'll leave you sleeping Eren mumbled, tugging at his shirt hem as he did "Getting up hasn't been a problem..." "What was that?" "Nothing. Just pregnancy stuff..." Kissing him sweetly, Eren headed towards their room. While his omega's comment finally made it down to his dick... That horny little shit... great. Now he was definitely going to need a cold shower to get the image of a hard and slick Eren out his mind. * Climbing into Levi's bed, Eren was out the moment his head hit the pillow. His omega had been constantly buzzing in the back of his mind, telling him that Levi had taken Viren and left him for good. He'd thrown himself into cooking to distract himself from his rising doubts over Levi coming home. He didn't want to keep his mate away... but there was just so many things in his mind. Sleeping like the dead, he should have felt refreshed. His dreams were of Levi and Viren. For some reason they were on a cruise on a massive cruise liner. The whole thing was amazing, until it went the way of his usual dreams. Levi and Viren were both wearing tuxedos, their son's hair combed back to perfection as Levi carried him on his hip, their smiles so wide he was filled with more affection than he knew what to do with . The cruise liner crashing into a field of ice, the ship lurching sideways, and separating him from Levi and Viren as he was thrown into the frigid water. Sinking, all he could were other people sinking too. Trying to breathe, he swallowed down lungful after lungful of the salt water, his ears ringing with the pressure as he tried to fight his way up. He had to get back to Levi and Viren... yet all he did was sink. It didn't matter how many times he kicked his legs, or waved his arms like a moron, the sliver of light above him grew to nothing... watching as he sank, suddenly an arm reached down towards him. Grabbing the hand, he was pulled to the surface, only they weren't in the ice field anymore. He was in the bathtub at home, Reiner and Bertholdt standing over him. Pulled from bathtub, he was just about to hit the floor... Waking with a desperate gasp, Eren's heart was still racing as he came back to reality. Fuck. Fucking stupid dreams. It'd been so nice to begin with, and now it was rushing to slip away while leaving the lingering fear with it. Fucking wanker. Driving the heels of his palms into his eyes, he groaned at himself. Reiner and Bertholdt were gone. They weren't coming back. Dead and gone. Between his legs was wet with slick, and the throbbing in his dick wasn't something one would associate with a nightmare like that. He'd woken up just as horny the first time, ignoring it until he finally calmed down. It was because he was Levi's room, surrounded by his alpha's scent, but with Reiner and Bertholdt front and centre in his mind... he couldn't deal with the right now. Rolling back over, he curled around his stomach. He could feel the movements of the pups, and if Levi knew, he'd be right there hoping to feel the same. Nuzzling into the pillow beneath his head, he made a grievous error as Levi's scent filled his nose. Fuck... his alpha smelt so fucking good. The gasp that escaped his lips as a thick blob of slick gushed from him, was completely unwanted. His body was so confused. He'd been dreaming about Reiner and Bertholdt, now he was dripping with slick and ready to be mounted. He needed to be thinking about Levi. Levi was his alpha... not... those two... did... was this cheating? He couldn't control his dreams, but he'd woken up like this... even after dreaming about the pair of them... he'd... he was horny and thinking about two other alpha's... a long miserable whine slipped from his throat. Levi would be angry... he was his omega. He belonged to him. He didn't have anyone else. Levi and Viren were his family and this was his home. What did he do if Levi changed his mind about him? He wanted his alpha to want him. He knew he was hurting Levi each time a touch was too much. He didn't want to hurt him... "Eren" Pulled up from his protective ball, Eren continued to whine for his alpha as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He couldn't breathe, but he sure as hell could whine without realising he'd continued to do so "Eren. I'm here. You're ok. You're safe" Cupping his face in his hands, Levi rubbed his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs "You're ok. It was just a dream. You're ok. Come on, breath in through your nose and out through your mouth for me" The moment he could follow Levi's directions, he threw his arms around his alpha, starting to sob in earnest "Please don't get rid of me. I didn't mean to dream about them" "Shhh... shh... you're ok. No one is getting rid of anyone" "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to" "It was just a dream" "I feel like I cheated on you... I didn't want to dream about them. I didn't... I hate this stupid body!" "Eren, it was a dream. A stupid dream. You didn't cheat on me. I know you wouldn't... you need to calm down for me" "I'm sorry... I'll be good. Just let me show you" "You're already good. So good to me..." Clutching Levi, Eren cried his stupidity out onto his alpha's shoulder. He shouldn't need Levi to soothe him like this. He was 24, soon to be 25. He was a grown adult male with a loving mate. Not the kid who'd been abandoned by everyone "Shhhh. I love you" "I love you too, Lee... I love you. I don't love them" "I know you don't, I know. I've got you" Crying himself out, he sniffled sadly. Each sob had sent more slick spilling. His whole lower half felt gross from it. His head felt gross from crying, while his back was sore from leaning into Levi. Sitting back, he let out a pathetic whine. His lip trembling as he looked to Levi, ashamed to mumble "I've slicked" "Do you want some help cleaning up?" He couldn't stomach the idea of showering with his mate, and yet Levi was still trying to help him. He didn't want to think about Reiner and Bertholdt... and he knew how good Levi's hands could feel... even when he wasn't in the mood. He was such a hypocrite. Don't touch me. Touch me more. Give me attention when I want it, then go away. And Levi... Levi was looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. No. He didn't want to be touched, but he also didn't not want to be touched. Hating himself, he nodded. Lifted off the bed by his mate, Levi carried him into the bathroom. His alpha letting out a moan as he pulled down Eren's pyjama bottoms and underwear. The smell of slick and arousal filled the room. He could see Levi was affected. His alpha's pupils were wide as he licked his lips, before realising what he was doing "I'll start the shower for you" Would it really be that bad to have Levi mount him? He was soaking wet and... he wasn't them. Turning, he placed both hands on the bathroom counter. Taking a deep breath breath as he did "Eren? The shower's over here" "I know... I just need a minute" "Hey. You don't have to force yourself. I can go" "No! No... Lee, I don't know what to do. I don't want to think about them, but they're in my dreams. My body has decided to betray me like this. I don't want to be touched, but all I can think about is you touching me and getting rid of the memories of them. I don't know what I want. I don't know" "Do you trust me?" Eren nodded as he sniffled "Good. Come here" He hadn't even noticed Levi had stripped. Guided into the shower, Levi wrapped an arm around him, crooning softly as he did. Nudging his thighs apart, Levi slipped his hand down, taking his dick as his continued to croon to soothe him. With his forehead on Levi's shoulder, he gasped softly at the feeling, before moaning as Levi began to jerk him off. It didn't take long before Eren came, the orgasm leaving him melting against Levi. Nuzzling and peppering kisses to his hair, Levi softly praised him. His alpha holding him tenderly until he could finally stand unaided. Cleaning his body down, Levi started by washing his hair and working his way down. It felt like his mate had found every single muscle knot and sore spot, working them until the tension eased. With his forehead against the tiles, Eren was pretty sure Levi wasn't actually getting him cleaned up. He could feel each flutter as more slick was expelled from body, but Levi never made to act on it. Even when he finally cleaned down his slick, the worst the alpha did was press a kiss to his butt cheek and tell him how perfect he was. Helped from the shower, Levi wrapped him in his towel, before fetching clothes for him. Drying his hair down, his mate again pressed kisses to his hair between the movement of the towel. Eren felt the most relaxed he had since coming out of hospital, that a purr began to rumble from his chest. Levi ignored the purring in favour of helping him dress. The alpha still wearing just as towel around his waist as he carried him through to his old bedroom, rather than their room. Laying him down, Levi stroked the side of his face, before tucking his wayward hair back "You're my everything, Eren. You're confused and you're hurting, but you haven't given up. I love you" "I love you too... thank you. I'm sorry I can't figure out what I want or need" "Eren, it's fine. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Viren was cranky when he woke up, so I put him back to bed. Do you want me to wake you?" "Um... can... you maybe stay?" "You want me to stay?" "I don't want to have another bad dream" Rolling away from Levi, Eren wriggled towards the middle of the bed. It took a few moments before Levi joined him, spooned up and holding him close "Is this ok?" "Y-yes... thank you" "I'll always be here for you, my Shitty Brat" "My Arsehole of an Alpha" Feeling for his hand, Levi interlaced their fingers once he found it. If he knew he wanted Levi, why couldn't everything else fall into place?

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